diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-06-07 00:21:02 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-06-07 00:21:02 -0700 |
| commit | 70a60a7ddfa5f43f777c9a5c7968db1854b36f0d (patch) | |
| tree | 7361c92bb75050a00073a6a94f76cb05cfe11c55 | |
| parent | 588ce0f4bca019650492ebcf3744814bf81005b3 (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1211-h.zip | bin | 101368 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1211-h/1211-h.htm | 9580 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1211.txt | 7021 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1211.zip | bin | 90943 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/lporh10.txt | 6930 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/lporh10.zip | bin | 86132 -> 0 bytes |
6 files changed, 0 insertions, 23531 deletions
diff --git a/old/1211-h.zip b/old/1211-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 693ad59..0000000 --- a/old/1211-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/1211-h/1211-h.htm b/old/1211-h/1211-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index d5cb386..0000000 --- a/old/1211-h/1211-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9580 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> - <head> - <title> - From the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick, by Robert Herrick - </title> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; - margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; - text-align: right;} - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Selection From The Lyrical Poems Of -Robert Herrick, by Robert Herrick - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: A Selection From The Lyrical Poems Of Robert Herrick - -Author: Robert Herrick - -Editor: Francis Turner Palgrave - -Release Date: August 22, 2008 [EBook #1211] -Last Updated: February 4, 2013 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LYRICAL POEMS *** - - -Produced by an Anonymous Voluteer, and David Widger - - - - - - - -</pre> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <h1> - FROM THE LYRICAL POEMS OF ROBERT HERRICK - </h1> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <h2> - By Robert Herrick - </h2> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <h3> - Arranged with introduction by Francis Turner Palgrave - </h3> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <blockquote> - <p class="toc"> - <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>C H R Y S O M E L A</b></big> </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> PREFATORY </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> 1. THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> 2. TO HIS MUSE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> 3. WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> 4. TO HIS BOOK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> 5. TO HIS BOOK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> 6. TO HIS BOOK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> 7. TO MISTRESS KATHARINE BRADSHAW, THE LOVELY - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> 8. TO HIS VERSES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> 9. NOT EVERY DAY FIT FOR VERSE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> 10. HIS PRAYER TO BEN JONSON </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> 11. HIS REQUEST TO JULIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> 12. TO HIS BOOK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> 13. HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> 14. TO HIS BOOK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> 15. UPON HIMSELF </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> <b>IDYLLICA</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> 16. THE COUNTRY LIFE: </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> 17. TO PHILLIS, TO LOVE AND LIVE WITH HIM </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> 18. THE WASSAIL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> 19. THE FAIRIES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> 20. CEREMONY UPON CANDLEMAS EVE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> 21. CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> 22. THE CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS DAY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> 23. FAREWELL FROST, OR WELCOME SPRING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> 24. TO THE MAIDS, TO WALK ABROAD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> 25. CORINA'S GOING A MAYING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> 26. THE MAYPOLE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> 27. THE WAKE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> 28. THE HOCK-CART, OR HARVEST HOME: </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> 29. THE BRIDE-CAKE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> 30. THE OLD WIVES' PRAYER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> 31. THE BELL-MAN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> 33. TO THE GENIUS OF HIS HOUSE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> 33. HIS GRANGE, OR PRIVATE WEALTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> 34. A PASTORAL UPON THE BIRTH OF PRINCE - CHARLES: </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> 35. A DIALOGUE BETWIXT HIMSELF AND MISTRESS - ELIZA WHEELER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> 36. A BUCOLIC BETWIXT TWO; LACON AND THYRSIS - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> 37. A PASTORAL SUNG TO THE KING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> 38. TO THE WILLOW-TREE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> 39. THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR, OBERON'S CHAPEL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0044"> 40. OBERON'S FEAST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0045"> 41. THE BEGGAR TO MAB, THE FAIRY QUEEN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0046"> 42. THE HAG </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0047"> 43. THE MAD MAID'S SONG </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0048"> 44. THE CHEAT OF CUPID; OR, THE UNGENTLE GUEST - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0049"> 45. UPON CUPID </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0050"> 46. TO BE MERRY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0051"> 47. UPON HIS GRAY HAIRS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0052"> 48. AN HYMN TO THE MUSES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0053"> 49. THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0054"> 50. HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0055"> 51. HIS RETURN TO LONDON </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0056"> 52. HIS DESIRE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0057"> 53. AN ODE FOR BEN JONSON </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0058"> 54. TO LIVE MERRILY, AND TO TRUST TO GOOD - VERSES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0059"> 55. THE APPARITION OF HIS, MISTRESS, CALLING - HIM TO ELYSIUM </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0060"> 56. THE INVITATION </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0061"> 57. TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0062"> 58. A COUNTRY LIFE: TO HIS BROTHER, MR THOMAS - HERRICK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0063"> 59. TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0064"> 60. A PARANAETICALL, OR ADVISIVE VERSE TO HIS - FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0065"> 61. TO HIS HONOURED AND MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND - MR CHARLES COTTON </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0066"> 62. A NEW YEAR'S GIFT, SENT TO SIR SIMEON - STEWARD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0067"> 63. AN ODE TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0068"> 64. A PANEGYRIC TO SIR LEWIS PEMBERTON </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0069"> 65. ALL THINGS DECAY AND DIE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0070"> 66. TO HIS DYING BROTHER, MASTER WILLIAM - HERRICK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0071"> 67. HIS AGE: </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0072"> 68. THE BAD SEASON MAKES THE POET SAD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0073"> 69. ON HIMSELF </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0074"> 70. HIS WINDING-SHEET </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0075"> 71. ANACREONTIC </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0076"> 72. TO LAURELS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0077"> 73. ON HIMSELF </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0078"> 74. ON HIMSELF </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0079"> 75. TO ROBIN RED-BREAST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0080"> 76. THE OLIVE BRANCH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0081"> 77. THE PLAUDITE, OR END OF LIFE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0082"> 78. TO GROVES </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0083"> AMORES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0084"> 79. MRS ELIZ: WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF THE - LOST SHEPHERDESS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0085"> 80. A VOW TO VENUS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0086"> 81. UPON LOVE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0087"> 82. UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0088"> 83. THE BRACELET TO JULIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0089"> 84. UPON JULIA'S RIBBON </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0090"> 85. TO JULIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0091"> 86. ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0092"> 87. HER BED </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0093"> 88. THE ROCK OF RUBIES, AND THE QUARRY OF - PEARLS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0094"> 89. THE PARLIAMENT OF ROSES TO JULIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0095"> 90. UPON JULIA'S RECOVERY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0096"> 91. UPON JULIA'S HAIR FILLED WITH DEW </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0097"> 92. CHERRY RIPE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0098"> 93. THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0099"> 94. UPON ROSES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0100"> 95. HOW HIS SOUL CAME ENSNARED </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0101"> 96. UPON JULIA'S VOICE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0102"> 97. THE NIGHT PIECE: TO JULIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0103"> 98. HIS COVENANT OR PROTESTATION TO JULIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0104"> 99. HIS SAILING FROM JULIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0105"> 100. HIS LAST REQUEST TO JULIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0106"> 101. THE TRANSFIGURATION </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0107"> 102. LOVE DISLIKES NOTHING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0108"> 103. UPON LOVE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0109"> 104. TO DIANEME </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0110"> 105. TO PERENNA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0111"> 106. TO OENONE. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0112"> 107. TO ELECTRA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0113"> 108. TO ANTHEA, WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANY THING - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0114"> 109. ANTHEA'S RETRACTATION </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0115"> 110. LOVE LIGHTLY PLEASED </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0116"> 111. TO DIANEME </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0117"> 112. UPON HER EYES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0118"> 113. UPON HER FEET </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0119"> 114. UPON A DELAYING LADY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0120"> 115. THE CRUEL MAID </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0121"> 116. TO HIS MISTRESS, OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER - TOYING OR TALKING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0122"> 117. IMPOSSIBILITIES: TO HIS FRIEND </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0123"> 118. THE BUBBLE: A SONG </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0124"> 119. DELIGHT IN DISORDER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0125"> 120. TO SILVIA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0126"> 121. TO SILVIA TO WED </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0127"> 122. BARLEY-BREAK; OR, LAST IN HELL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0128"> 123. ON A PERFUMED LADY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0129"> 124. THE PARCAE; OR, THREE DAINTY DESTINIES: - THE ARMILET </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0130"> 125. A CONJURATION: TO ELECTRA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0131"> 126. TO SAPHO </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0132"> 127. OF LOVE: A SONNET </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0133"> 128. TO DIANEME </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0134"> 129. TO DIANEME </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0135"> 130. KISSING USURY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0136"> 131. UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0137"> 132. THE WOUNDED HEART </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0138"> 133. HIS MISTRESS TO HIM AT HIS FAREWELL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0139"> 134. CRUTCHES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0140"> 135. TO ANTHEA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0141"> 136. TO ANTHEA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0142"> 137. TO HIS LOVELY MISTRESSES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0143"> 138. TO PERlLLA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0144"> 139. A MEDITATION FOR HIS MISTRESS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0145"> 140. TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0146"> <b>EPIGRAMS</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0147"> 141. POSTING TO PRINTING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0148"> 142. HIS LOSS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0149"> 143. THINGS MORTAL STILL MUTABLE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0150"> 144. NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0151"> 145. THE PRESENT TIME BEST PLEASETH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0152"> 146. WANT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0153"> 147. SATISFACTION FOR SUFFERINGS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0154"> 148. WRITING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0155"> 149. THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0156"> 150. A MEAN IN OUR MEANS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0157"> 151. MONEY MAKES THE MIRTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0158"> 152. TEARS AND LAUGHTER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0159"> 153. UPON TEARS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0160"> 154. ON LOVE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0161"> 155. PEACE NOT PERMANENT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0162"> 156. PARDONS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0163"> 157. TRUTH AND ERROR </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0164"> 158. WlT PUNISHED PROSPERS MOST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0165"> 159. BURIAL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0166"> 160. NO PAINS, NO GAINS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0167"> 161. TO YOUTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0168"> 162. TO ENJOY THE TIME </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0169"> 163. FELICITY QUICK OF FLIGHT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0170"> 164. MIRTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0171"> 165. THE HEART </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0172"> 166. LOVE, WHAT IT IS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0173"> 167. DREAMS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0174"> 168. AMBITION </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0175"> 169. SAFETY ON THE SHORE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0176"> 170. UPON A PAINTED GENTLEWOMAN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0177"> 171. UPON WRINKLES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0178"> 172. CASUALTIES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0179"> 173. TO LIVE FREELY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0180"> 174. NOTHING FREE-COST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0181"> 175. MAN'S DYING-PLACE UNCERTAIN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0182"> 176. LOSS FROM THE LEAST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0183"> 177. POVERTY AND RICHES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0184"> 178. UPON MAN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0185"> 179. PURPOSES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0186"> 180. FOUR THINGS MAKE US HAPPY HERE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0187"> 181. THE WATCH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0188"> 182. UPON THE DETRACTER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0189"> 183. ON HIMSELF </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0190"> <b>NATURE AND LIFE</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0191"> 184. I CALL AND I CALL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0192"> 185. THE SUCCESSION OF THE FOUR SWEET MONTHS - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0193"> 186. TO BLOSSOMS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0194"> 187. THE SHOWER OF BLOSSOMS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0195"> 188. TO THE ROSE: SONG </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0196"> 189. THE FUNERAL RITES OF THE ROSE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0197"> 190. THE BLEEDING HAND; OR THE SPRIG OF - EGLANTINE GIVEN TO A MAID </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0198"> 191. TO CARNATIONS: A SONG </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0199"> 192. TO PANSIES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0200"> 193. HOW PANSIES OR HEARTS-EASE CAME FIRST - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0201"> 194. WHY FLOWERS CHANGE COLOUR </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0202"> 195. THE PRIMROSE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0203"> 196. TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0204"> 197. TO DAISIES, NOT TO SHUT SO SOON </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0205"> 198. TO DAFFADILS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0206"> 199. TO VIOLETS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0207"> 200. THE APRON OF FLOWERS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0208"> 201. THE LILY IN A CRYSTAL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0209"> 202. TO MEADOWS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0210"> 203. TO A GENTLEWOMAN, OBJECTING TO HIM HIS - GRAY HAIRS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0211"> 204. THE CHANGES: TO CORINNA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0212"> 205. UPON MRS ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF - AMARILLIS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0213"> 206. NO FAULT IN WOMEN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0214"> 207. THE BAG OF THE BEE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0215"> 208. THE PRESENT; OR, THE BAG OF THE BEE: </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0216"> 209. TO THE WATER-NYMPHS DRINKING AT THE - FOUNTAIN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0217"> 210. HOW SPRINGS CAME FIRST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0218"> 211. TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0219"> 212. A HYMN TO THE GRACES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0220"> 213. A HYMN TO LOVE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0221"> 214. UPON LOVE: BY WAY OF QUESTION AND ANSWER - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0222"> 215. LOVERS HOW THEY COME AND PART </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0223"> 216. THE KISS: A DIALOGUE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0224"> 217. COMFORT TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0225"> 218. ORPHEUS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0226"> 219. A REQUEST TO THE GRACES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0227"> 220. A HYMN TO VENUS AND CUPID </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0228"> 221. TO BACCHUS: A CANTICLE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0229"> 222. A HYMN TO BACCHUS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0230"> 223. A CANTICLE TO APOLLO </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0231"> 224. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM A SWEET SICK YOUTH - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0232"> 225. TO MUSIC: A SONG </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0233"> 226. SOFT MUSIC </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0234"> 227. TO MUSIC </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0235"> 228. THE VOICE AND VIOL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0236"> 229. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM HIS FEVER </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0237"> <b>MUSAE GRAVIORES</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0238"> 230. A THANKSGIVING TO GOD, FOR HIS HOUSE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0239"> 231. MATINS, OR MORNING PRAYER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0240"> 232. GOOD PRECEPTS, OR COUNSEL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0241"> 233. PRAY AND PROSPER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0242"> 234. THE BELL-MAN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0243"> 235. UPON TIME </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0244"> 236. MEN MIND NO STATE IN SICKNESS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0245"> 237. LIFE IS THE BODY'S LIGHT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0246"> 238. TO THE LADY CREWE, UPON THE DEATH OF HER - CHILD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0247"> 239. UPON A CHILD THAT DIED </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0248"> 240. UPON A CHILD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0249"> 241. AN EPITAPH UPON A CHILD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0250"> 242. AN EPITAPH UPON A VIRGIN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0251"> 243. UPON A MAID </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0252"> 244. THE DIRGE OF JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER: SUNG BY - THE VIRGINS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0253"> 245. THE WIDOWS' TEARS; OR, DIRGE OF DORCAS - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0254"> 246. UPON HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, MISTRESS - ELIZABETH HERRICK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0255"> 247. TO HIS KINSWOMAN, MISTRESS SUSANNA - HERRICK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0256"> 248. ON HIMSELF </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0257"> 249. HIS WISH TO PRIVACY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0258"> 250. TO HIS PATERNAL COUNTRY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0259"> 251. COCK-CROW </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0260"> 252. TO HIS CONSCIENCE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0261"> 253. TO HEAVEN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0262"> 254. AN ODE OF THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0263"> 255. TO HIS SAVIOUR, A CHILD; A PRESENT, BY A - CHILD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0264"> 256. GRACE FOR A CHILD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0265"> 257. HIS LITANY, TO THE HOLY SPIRIT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0266"> 258. TO DEATH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0267"> 259. TO HIS SWEET SAVIOUR </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0268"> 260. ETERNITY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0269"> 261. THE WHITE ISLAND: OR PLACE OF THE BLEST - </a> - </p> - </blockquote> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - PREFACE - </h2> - <p> - ROBERT HERRICK - Born 1591 : Died 1674 - </p> - <p> - Those who most admire the Poet from whose many pieces a selection only is - here offered, will, it is probable, feel most strongly (with the Editor) - that excuse is needed for an attempt of an obviously presumptuous nature. - The choice made by any selector invites challenge: the admission, perhaps, - of some poems, the absence of more, will be censured:—Whilst others - may wholly condemn the process, in virtue of an argument not unfrequently - advanced of late, that a writer's judgment on his own work is to be - considered final. And his book to be taken as he left it, or left - altogether; a literal reproduction of the original text being occasionally - included in this requirement. - </p> - <p> - If poetry were composed solely for her faithful band of true lovers and - true students, such a facsimile as that last indicated would have claims - irresistible; but if the first and last object of this, as of the other - Fine Arts, may be defined in language borrowed from a different range of - thought, as 'the greatest pleasure of the greatest number,' it is certain - that less stringent forms of reproduction are required and justified. The - great majority of readers cannot bring either leisure or taste, or - information sufficient to take them through a large mass (at any rate) of - ancient verse, not even if it be Spenser's or Milton's. Manners and modes - of speech, again, have changed; and much that was admissible centuries - since, or at least sought admission, has now, by a law against which - protest is idle, lapsed into the indecorous. Even unaccustomed forms of - spelling are an effort to the eye;—a kind of friction, which - diminishes the ease and enjoyment of the reader. - </p> - <p> - These hindrances and clogs, of very diverse nature, cannot be disregarded - by Poetry. In common with everything which aims at human benefit, she must - work not only for the 'faithful': she has also the duty of 'conversion.' - Like a messenger from heaven, it is hers to inspire, to console, to - elevate: to convert the world, in a word, to herself. Every rough place - that slackens her footsteps must be made smooth; nor, in this Art, need - there be fear that the way will ever be vulgarized by too much ease, nor - that she will be loved less by the elect, for being loved more widely. - </p> - <p> - Passing from these general considerations, it is true that a selection - framed in conformity with them, especially if one of our older poets be - concerned, parts with a certain portion of the pleasure which poetry may - confer. A writer is most thoroughly to be judged by the whole of what he - printed. A selector inevitably holds too despotic a position over his - author. The frankness of speech which we have abandoned is an interesting - evidence how the tone of manners changes. The poet's own spelling and - punctuation bear, or may bear, a gleam of his personality. But such last - drops of pleasure are the reward of fully-formed taste; and fully-formed - taste cannot be reached without full knowledge. This, we have noticed, - most readers cannot bring. Hence, despite all drawbacks, an anthology may - have its place. A book which tempts many to read a little, will guide some - to that more profound and loving study of which the result is, the full - accomplishment of the poet's mission. - </p> - <p> - We have, probably, no poet to whom the reasons here advanced to justify - the invidious task of selection apply more fully and forcibly than to - Herrick. Highly as he is to be rated among our lyrists, no one who reads - through his fourteen hundred pieces can reasonably doubt that whatever may - have been the influences,—wholly unknown to us,—which - determined the contents of his volume, severe taste was not one of them. - PECAT FORTITER:—his exquisite directness and simplicity of speech - repeatedly take such form that the book cannot be offered to a very large - number of those readers who would most enjoy it. The spelling is at once - arbitrary and obsolete. Lastly, the complete reproduction of the original - text, with explanatory notes, edited by Mr Grosart, supplies materials - equally full and interesting for those who may, haply, be allured by this - little book to master one of our most attractive poets in his integrity. - </p> - <p> - In Herrick's single own edition of HESPERIDES and NOBLE NUMBERS, but - little arrangement is traceable: nor have we more than a few internal - signs of date in composition. It would hence be unwise to attempt grouping - the poems on a strict plan: and the divisions under which they are here - ranged must be regarded rather as progressive aspects of a landscape than - as territorial demarcations. Pieces bearing on the poet as such are placed - first; then, those vaguely definable as of idyllic character, 'his girls,' - epigrams, poems on natural objects, on character and life; lastly, a few - in his religious vein. For the text, although reference has been made to - the original of 1647-8, Mr Grosart's excellent reprint has been mainly - followed. And to that edition this book is indebted for many valuable - exegetical notes, kindly placed at the Editor's disposal. But for much - fuller elucidation both of words and allusions, and of the persons - mentioned, readers are referred to Mr Grosart's volumes, which (like the - same scholar's 'Sidney' and 'Donne'), for the first time give Herrick a - place among books not printed only, but edited. - </p> - <p> - Robert Herrick's personal fate is in one point like Shakespeare's. We know - or seem to know them both, through their works, with singular intimacy. - But with this our knowledge substantially ends. No private letter of - Shakespeare, no record of his conversation, no account of the - circumstances in which his writings were published, remains: hardly any - statement how his greatest contemporaries ranked him. A group of Herrick's - youthful letters on business has, indeed, been preserved; of his life and - studies, of his reputation during his own time, almost nothing. For - whatever facts affectionate diligence could now gather. Readers are - referred to Mr Grosart's 'Introduction.' But if, to supplement the - picture, inevitably imperfect, which this gives, we turn to Herrick's own - book, we learn little, biographically, except the names of a few friends,—that - his general sympathies were with the Royal cause,—and that he - wearied in Devonshire for London. So far as is known, he published but - this one volume, and that, when not far from his sixtieth year. Some - pieces may be traced in earlier collections; some few carry ascertainable - dates; the rest lie over a period of near forty years, during a great - portion of which we have no distinct account where Herrick lived, or what - were his employments. We know that he shone with Ben Jonson and the wits - at the nights and suppers of those gods of our glorious early literature: - we may fancy him at Beaumanor, or Houghton, with his uncle and cousins, - keeping a Leicestershire Christmas in the Manor-house: or, again, in some - sweet southern county with Julia and Anthea, Corinna and Dianeme by his - side (familiar then by other names now never to be remembered), sitting - merry, but with just the sadness of one who hears sweet music, in some - meadow among his favourite flowers of spring-time;—there, or 'where - the rose lingers latest.' .... But 'the dream, the fancy,' is all that - Time has spared us. And if it be curious that his contemporaries should - have left so little record of this delightful poet and (as we should infer - from the book) genial-hearted man, it is not less so that the single first - edition should have satisfied the seventeenth century, and that, before - the present, notices of Herrick should be of the rarest occurrence. - </p> - <p> - The artist's 'claim to exist' is, however, always far less to be looked - for in his life, than in his art, upon the secret of which the fullest - biography can tell us little—as little, perhaps, as criticism can - analyse its charm. But there are few of our poets who stand less in need - than Herrick of commentaries of this description,—in which too often - we find little more than a dull or florid prose version of what the author - has given us admirably in verse. Apart from obsolete words or allusions, - Herrick is the best commentator upon Herrick. A few lines only need - therefore here be added, aiming rather to set forth his place in the - sequence of English poets, and especially in regard to those near his own - time, than to point out in detail beauties which he unveils in his own - way, and so most durably and delightfully. - </p> - <p> - When our Muses, silent or sick for a century and more after Chaucer's - death, during the years of war and revolution, reappeared, they brought - with them foreign modes of art, ancient and contemporary, in the forms of - which they began to set to music the new material which the age supplied. - At the very outset, indeed, the moralizing philosophy which has - characterized the English from the beginning of our national history, - appears in the writers of the troubled times lying between the last regnal - years of Henry VIII and the first of his great daughter. But with the - happier hopes of Elizabeth's accession, poetry was once more distinctly - followed, not only as a means of conveying thought, but as a Fine Art. And - hence something constrained and artificial blends with the freshness of - the Elizabethan literature. For its great underlying elements it - necessarily reverts to those embodied in our own earlier poets, Chaucer - above all, to whom, after barely one hundred and fifty years, men looked - up as a father of song: but in points of style and treatment, the poets of - the sixteenth century lie under a double external influence—that of - the poets of Greece and Rome (known either in their own tongues or by - translation), and that of the modern literatures which had themselves - undergone the same classical impulse. Italy was the source most regarded - during the more strictly Elizabethan period; whence its lyrical poetry and - the dramatic in a less degree, are coloured much less by pure and severe - classicalism with its closeness to reality, than by the allegorical and - elaborate style, fancy and fact curiously blended, which had been - generated in Italy under the peculiar and local circumstances of her - pilgrimage in literature and art from the age of Dante onwards. Whilst - that influence lasted, such brilliant pictures of actual life, such - directness, movement, and simplicity in style, as Chaucer often shows, - were not yet again attainable: and although satire, narrative, the poetry - of reflection, were meanwhile not wholly unknown, yet they only appear in - force at the close of this period. And then also the pressure of political - and religious strife, veiled in poetry during the greater part of - Elizabeth's actual reign under the forms of pastoral and allegory, again - imperiously breaks in upon the gracious but somewhat slender and - artificial fashions of England's Helicon: the DIVOM NUMEN, SEDESQUE - QUIETAE which, in some degree the Elizabethan poets offer, disappear; - until filling the central years of the seventeenth century we reach an age - as barren for inspiration of new song as the Wars of the Roses; although - the great survivors from earlier years mask this sterility;—masking - also the revolution in poetical manner and matter which we can see - secretly preparing in the later 'Cavalier' poets, but which was not - clearly recognised before the time of Dryden's culmination. - </p> - <p> - In the period here briefly sketched, what is Herrick's portion? His verse - is eminent for sweet and gracious fluency; this is a real note of the - 'Elizabethan' poets. His subjects are frequently pastoral, with a - classical tinge, more or less slight, infused; his language, though not - free from exaggeration, is generally free from intellectual conceits and - distortion, and is eminent throughout for a youthful NAIVETE. Such, also, - are qualities of the latter sixteenth century literature. But if these - characteristics might lead us to call Herrick 'the last of the - Elizabethans,' born out of due time, the differences between him and them - are not less marked. Herrick's directness of speech is accompanied by an - equally clear and simple presentment of his thought; we have, perhaps, no - poet who writes more consistently and earnestly with his eye upon his - subject. An allegorical or mystical treatment is alien from him: he - handles awkwardly the few traditional fables which he introduces. He is - also wholly free from Italianizing tendencies: his classicalism even is - that of an English student,—of a schoolboy, indeed, if he be - compared with a Jonson or a Milton. Herrick's personal eulogies on his - friends and others, further, witness to the extension of the field of - poetry after Elizabeth's age;—in which his enthusiastic geniality, - his quick and easy transitions of subject, have also little precedent. - </p> - <p> - If, again, we compare Herrick's book with those of his fellow-poets for a - hundred years before, very few are the traces which he gives of imitation, - or even of study. During the long interval between Herrick's entrance on - his Cambridge and his clerical careers (an interval all but wholly obscure - to us), it is natural to suppose that he read, at any rate, his - Elizabethan predecessors: yet (beyond those general similarities already - noticed) the Editor can find no positive proof of familiarity. Compare - Herrick with Marlowe, Greene, Breton, Drayton, or other pretty - pastoralists of the HELICON—his general and radical unlikeness is - what strikes us; whilst he is even more remote from the passionate - intensity of Sidney and Shakespeare, the Italian graces of Spenser, the - pensive beauty of PARTHENOPHIL, of DIELLA, of FIDESSA, of the - HECATOMPATHIA and the TEARS OF FANCY. - </p> - <p> - Nor is Herrick's resemblance nearer to many of the contemporaries who have - been often grouped with him. He has little in common with the courtly - elegance, the learned polish, which too rarely redeem commonplace and - conceits in Carew, Habington, Lovelace, Cowley, or Waller. Herrick has his - CONCETTI also: but they are in him generally true plays of fancy; he - writes throughout far more naturally than these lyrists, who, on the other - hand, in their unfrequent successes reach a more complete and classical - form of expression. Thus, when Carew speaks of an aged fair one - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her, - Love may return, but lovers never! -</pre> - <p> - Cowley, of his mistress— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Love in her sunny eyes does basking play, - Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair: -</pre> - <p> - or take Lovelace, 'To Lucasta,' Waller, in his 'Go, lovely rose,'—we - have a finish and condensation which Herrick hardly attains; a literary - quality alien from his 'woodnotes wild,' which may help us to understand - the very small appreciation he met from his age. He had 'a pretty pastoral - gale of fancy,' said Phillips, cursorily dismissing Herrick in his - THEATRUM: not suspecting how inevitably artifice and mannerism, if - fashionable for awhile, pass into forgetfulness, whilst the simple cry of - Nature partake in her permanence. - </p> - <p> - Donne and Marvell, stronger men, leave also no mark on our poet. The - elaborate thought, the metrical harshness of the first, could find no - counterpart in Herrick; whilst Marvell, beyond him in imaginative power, - though twisting it too often into contortion and excess, appears to have - been little known as a lyrist then:—as, indeed, his great merits - have never reached anything like due popular recognition. Yet Marvell's - natural description is nearer Herrick's in felicity and insight than any - of the poets named above. Nor, again, do we trace anything of Herbert or - Vaughan in Herrick's NOBLE NUMBERS, which, though unfairly judged if held - insincere, are obviously far distant from the intense conviction, the - depth and inner fervour of his high-toned contemporaries. - </p> - <p> - It is among the great dramatists of this age that we find the only English - influences palpably operative on this singularly original writer. The - greatest, in truth, is wholly absent: and it is remarkable that although - Herrick may have joined in the wit-contests and genialities of the - literary clubs in London soon after Shakespeare's death, and certainly - lived in friendship with some who had known him, yet his name is never - mentioned in the poetical commemorations of the HESPERIDES. In Herrick, - echoes from Fletcher's idyllic pieces in the FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS are - faintly traceable; from his songs, 'Hear what Love can do,' and 'The lusty - Spring,' more distinctly. But to Ben Jonson, whom Herrick addresses as his - patron saint in song, and ranks on the highest list of his friends, his - obligations are much more perceptible. In fact, Jonson's non-dramatic - poetry,—the EPIGRAMS and FOREST of 1616, the UNDERWOODS of 1641, (he - died in 1637),—supply models, generally admirable in point of art, - though of very unequal merit in their execution and contents, of the - principal forms under which we may range Herrick's HESPERIDES. The - graceful love-song, the celebration of feasts and wit, the encomia of - friends, the epigram as then understood, are all here represented: even - Herrick's vein in natural description is prefigured in the odes to - Penshurst and Sir Robert Wroth, of 1616. And it is in the religious pieces - of the NOBLE NUMBERS, for which Jonson afforded the least copious - precedents, that, as a rule, Herrick is least successful. - </p> - <p> - Even if we had not the verses on his own book, (the most noteworthy of - which are here printed as PREFATORY,) in proof that Herrick was no - careless singer, but a true artist, working with conscious knowledge of - his art, we might have inferred the fact from the choice of Jonson as his - model. That great poet, as Clarendon justly remarked, had 'judgment to - order and govern fancy, rather than excess of fancy: his productions being - slow and upon deliberation.' No writer could be better fitted for the - guidance of one so fancy-free as Herrick; to whom the curb, in the old - phrase, was more needful than the spur, and whose invention, more fertile - and varied than Jonson's, was ready at once to fill up the moulds of form - provided. He does this with a lively facility, contrasting much with the - evidence of labour in his master's work. Slowness and deliberation are the - last qualities suggested by Herrick. Yet it may be doubted whether the - volatile ease, the effortless grace, the wild bird-like fluency with which - he - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Scatters his loose notes in the waste of air -</pre> - <p> - are not, in truth, the results of exquisite art working in cooperation - with the gifts of nature. The various readings which our few remaining - manuscripts or printed versions have supplied to Mr Grosart's - 'Introduction,' attest the minute and curious care with which Herrick - polished and strengthened his own work: his airy facility, his seemingly - spontaneous melodies, as with Shelley—his counterpart in pure - lyrical art within this century—were earned by conscious labour; - perfect freedom was begotten of perfect art;—nor, indeed, have - excellence and permanence any other parent. - </p> - <p> - With the error that regards Herrick as a careless singer is closely twined - that which ranks him in the school of that master of elegant pettiness who - has usurped and abused the name Anacreon; as a mere light-hearted writer - of pastorals, a gay and frivolous Renaissance amourist. He has indeed - those elements: but with them is joined the seriousness of an age which - knew that the light mask of classicalism and bucolic allegory could be - worn only as an ornament, and that life held much deeper and - further-reaching issues than were visible to the narrow horizons within - which Horace or Martial circumscribed the range of their art. Between the - most intensely poetical, and so, greatest, among the French poets of this - century, and Herrick, are many points of likeness. He too, with Alfred de - Musset, might have said - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Quoi que nous puissions faire, - Je souffre; il est trop tard; le monde s'est fait vieux. - Une immense esperance a traverse la terre; - Malgre nous vers le ciel il faut lever les yeux. -</pre> - <p> - Indeed, Herrick's deepest debt to ancient literature lies not in the - models which he directly imitated, nor in the Anacreontic tone which with - singular felicity he has often taken. These are common to many writers - with him:—nor will he who cannot learn more from the great ancient - world ever rank among poets of high order, or enter the innermost - sanctuary of art. But, the power to describe men and things as the poet - sees them with simple sincerity, insight, and grace: to paint scenes and - imaginations as perfect organic wholes;—carrying with it the gift to - clothe each picture, as if by unerring instinct, in fit metrical form, - giving to each its own music; beginning without affectation, and rounding - off without effort;—the power, in a word, to leave simplicity, - sanity, and beauty as the last impressions lingering on our minds, these - gifts are at once the true bequest of classicalism, and the reason why - (until modern effort equals them) the study of that Hellenic and Latin - poetry in which these gifts are eminent above all other literatures yet - created, must be essential. And it is success in precisely these - excellences which is here claimed for Herrick. He is classical in the - great and eternal sense of the phrase: and much more so, probably, than he - was himself aware of. No poet in fact is so far from dwelling in a past or - foreign world: it is the England, if not of 1648, at least of his youth, - in which he lives and moves and loves: his Bucolics show no trace of - Sicily: his Anthea and Julia wear no 'buckles of the purest gold,' nor - have anything about them foreign to Middlesex or Devon. Herrick's - imagination has no far horizons: like Burns and Crabbe fifty years since, - or Barnes (that exquisite and neglected pastoralist of fair Dorset, - perfect within his narrower range as Herrick) to-day, it is his own native - land only which he sees and paints: even the fairy world in which, at - whatever inevitable interval, he is second to Shakespeare, is pure - English; or rather, his elves live in an elfin county of their own, and - are all but severed from humanity. Within that greater circle of - Shakespeare, where Oberon and Ariel and their fellows move, aiding or - injuring mankind, and reflecting human life in a kind of unconscious - parody, Herrick cannot walk: and it may have been due to his good sense - and true feeling for art, that here, where resemblance might have seemed - probable, he borrows nothing from MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM or TEMPEST. if - we are moved by the wider range of Byron's or Shelley's sympathies, there - is a charm, also, in this sweet insularity of Herrick; a narrowness - perhaps, yet carrying with it a healthful reality absent from the vapid - and artificial 'cosmopolitanism' that did such wrong on Goethe's genius. - If he has not the exotic blooms and strange odours which poets who derive - from literature show in their conservatories, Herrick has the fresh breeze - and thyme-bed fragrance of open moorland, the grace and greenery of - English meadows: with Homer and Dante, he too shares the strength and - inspiration which come from touch of a man's native soil. - </p> - <p> - What has been here sketched is not planned so much as a criticism in form - on Herrick's poetry as an attempt to seize his relations to his - predecessors and contemporaries. If we now tentatively inquire what place - may be assigned to him in our literature at large, Herrick has no single - lyric to show equal, in pomp of music, brilliancy of diction, or elevation - of sentiment to some which Spenser before, Milton in his own time, Dryden - and Gray, Wordsworth and Shelley, since have given us. Nor has he, as - already noticed, the peculiar finish and reserve (if the phrase may be - allowed) traceable, though rarely, in Ben Jonson and others of the - seventeenth century. He does not want passion; yet his passion wants - concentration: it is too ready, also, to dwell on externals: imagination - with him generally appears clothed in forms of fancy. Among his - contemporaries, take Crashaw's 'Wishes': Sir J. Beaumont's elegy on his - child Gervase: take Bishop King's 'Surrender': - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - My once-dear Love!—hapless, that I no more - Must call thee so. . . . The rich affection's store - That fed our hopes, lies now exhaust and spent, - Like sums of treasure unto bankrupts lent:— - We that did nothing study but the way - To love each other, with which thoughts the day - Rose with delight to us, and with them set, - Must learn the hateful art, how to forget! - —Fold back our arms, take home our fruitless loves, - That must new fortunes try, like turtle doves - Dislodged from their haunts. We must in tears - Unwind a love knit up in many years. - In this one kiss I here surrender thee - Back to thyself: so thou again art free:— -</pre> - <p> - take eight lines by some old unknown Northern singer: - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When I think on the happy days - I spent wi' you, my dearie, - And now what lands between us lie, - How can I be but eerie! - - How slow ye move, ye heavy hours, - As ye were wae and weary! - It was na sae ye glinted by - When I was wi' my dearie:— -</pre> - <p> - —O! there is an intensity here, a note of passion beyond the deepest - of Herrick's. This tone (whether from temperament or circumstance or - scheme of art), is wanting to the HESPERIDES and NOBLE NUMBERS: nor does - Herrick's lyre, sweet and varied as it is, own that purple chord, that - more inwoven harmony, possessed by poets of greater depth and splendour,—by - Shakespeare and Milton often, by Spenser more rarely. But if we put aside - these 'greater gods' of song, with Sidney,—in the Editor's judgment - Herrick's mastery (to use a brief expression), both over Nature and over - Art, clearly assigns to him the first place as lyrical poet, in the strict - and pure sense of the phrase, among all who flourished during the interval - between Henry V and a hundred years since. Single pieces of equal, a few - of higher, quality, we have, indeed, meanwhile received, not only from the - master-singers who did not confine themselves to the Lyric, but from many - poets—some the unknown contributors to our early anthologies, then - Jonson, Marvell, Waller, Collins, and others, with whom we reach the - beginning of the wider sweep which lyrical poetry has since taken. Yet, - looking at the whole work, not at the selected jewels, of this great and - noble multitude, Herrick, as lyrical poet strictly, offers us by far the - most homogeneous, attractive, and varied treasury. No one else among - lyrists within the period defined, has such unfailing freshness: so much - variety within the sphere prescribed to himself: such closeness to nature, - whether in description or in feeling: such easy fitness in language: - melody so unforced and delightful. His dull pages are much less frequent: - he has more lines, in his own phrase, 'born of the royal blood': the - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Inflata rore non Achaico verba -</pre> - <p> - are rarer with him: although superficially mannered, nature is so much - nearer to him, that far fewer of his pieces have lost vitality and - interest through adherence to forms of feeling or fashions of thought now - obsolete. A Roman contemporary is described by the younger Pliny in words - very appropriate to Herrick: who, in fact, if Greek in respect of his - method and style, in the contents of his poetry displays the 'frankness of - nature and vivid sense of life' which criticism assigns as marks of the - great Roman poets. FACIT VERSUS, QUALES CATULLUS AUT CALVUS. QUANTUM ILLIS - LEPORIS, DULCEDINIS, AMARITUDINIS AMORIS! INSERIT SANE, SED DATA OPERA, - MOLLIBUS LENIBUSQUE DURIUSCULOS QUOSDAM; ET HOC, QUASI CATULLUS AUT - CALVUS. Many pieces have been, here refused admittance, whether from - coarseness of phrase or inferior value: yet these are rarely defective in - the lyrical art, which, throughout the writer's work, is so simple and - easy as almost to escape notice through its very excellence. In one word, - Herrick, in a rare and special sense, is unique. - </p> - <p> - To these qualities we may, perhaps, ascribe the singular neglect which, so - far as we may infer, he met with in his own age, and certainly in the - century following. For the men of the Restoration period he was too - natural, too purely poetical: he had not the learned polish, the political - allusion, the tone of the city, the didactic turn, which were then and - onwards demanded from poetry. In the next age, no tradition consecrated - his name; whilst writers of a hundred years before were then too remote - for familiarity, and not remote enough for reverence. Moving on to our own - time, when some justice has at length been conceded to him, Herrick has to - meet the great rivalry of the poets who, from Burns and Cowper to - Tennyson, have widened and deepened the lyrical sphere, making it at once - on the one hand more intensely personal, on the other, more free and - picturesque in the range of problems dealt with: whilst at the same time - new and richer lyrical forms, harmonies more intricate and seven-fold, - have been created by them, as in Hellas during her golden age of song, to - embody ideas and emotions unknown or unexpressed under Tudors and Stuarts. - To this latter superiority Herrick would, doubtless, have bowed, as he - bowed before Ben Jonson's genius. 'Rural ditties,' and 'oaten flute' - cannot bear the competition of the full modern orchestra. Yet this author - need not fear! That exquisite: and lofty pleasure which it is the first - and the last aim of all true art to give, must, by its own nature, be - lasting also. As the eyesight fluctuates, and gives the advantage to - different colours in turn, so to the varying moods of the mind the same - beauty does not always seem equally beautiful. Thus from the 'purple - light' of our later poetry there are hours in which we may look to the - daffodil and rose-tints of Herrick's old Arcadia, for refreshment and - delight. And the pleasure which he gives is as eminently wholesome as - pleasurable. Like the holy river of Virgil, to the souls who drink of him, - Herrick offers 'securos latices.' He is conspicuously free from many of - the maladies incident to his art. Here is no overstrain, no spasmodic cry, - so wire-drawn analysis or sensational rhetoric, no music without sense, no - mere second-hand literary inspiration, no mannered archaism:—above - all, no sickly sweetness, no subtle, unhealthy affectation. Throughout his - work, whether when it is strong, or in the less worthy portions, sanity, - sincerity, simplicity, lucidity, are everywhere the characteristics of - Herrick: in these, not in his pretty Pagan masquerade, he shows the note,—the - only genuine note,—of Hellenic descent. Hence, through whatever - changes and fashions poetry may pass, her true lovers he is likely to - 'please now, and please for long.' His verse, in the words of a poet - greater than himself, is of that quality which 'adds sunlight to - daylight'; which is able to 'make the happy happier.' He will, it may be - hoped, carry to the many Englands across the seas, east and west, pictures - of English life exquisite in truth and grace:—to the more fortunate - inhabitants (as they must perforce hold themselves!) of the old country, - her image, as she was two centuries since, will live in the 'golden - apples' of the West, offered to us by this sweet singer of Devonshire. We - have greater poets, not a few; none more faithful to nature as he saw her, - none more perfect in his art;—none, more companionable:— - </p> - <p> - F. T. P. - </p> - <p> - Dec. 1876 - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - C H R Y S O M E L A - </h2> - <h3> - A SELECTION FROM THE LYRICAL POEMS OF ROBERT HERRICK - </h3> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - PREFATORY - </h2> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 1. THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, - Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers; - I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, - Of bride-grooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. - I write of Youth, of Love;—and have access - By these, to sing of cleanly wantonness; - I sing of dews, of rains, and, piece by piece, - Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris. - I sing of times trans-shifting; and I write - How roses first came red, and lilies white. - I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing - The court of Mab, and of the Fairy King. - I write of Hell; I sing, and ever shall - Of Heaven,—and hope to have it after all. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 2. TO HIS MUSE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Whither, mad maiden, wilt thou roam? - Far safer 'twere to stay at home; - Where thou mayst sit, and piping, please - The poor and private cottages. - Since cotes and hamlets best agree - With this thy meaner minstrelsy. - There with the reed thou mayst express - The shepherd's fleecy happiness; - And with thy Eclogues intermix: - Some smooth and harmless Bucolics. - There, on a hillock, thou mayst sing - Unto a handsome shepherdling; - Or to a girl, that keeps the neat, - With breath more sweet than violet. - There, there, perhaps such lines as these - May take the simple villages; - But for the court, the country wit - Is despicable unto it. - Stay then at home, and do not go - Or fly abroad to seek for woe; - Contempts in courts and cities dwell - No critic haunts the poor man's cell, - Where thou mayst hear thine own lines read - By no one tongue there censured. - That man's unwise will search for ill, - And may prevent it, sitting still. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 3. WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse - The holy incantation of a verse; - But when that men have both well drunk, and fed, - Let my enchantments then be sung or read. - When laurel spirts i' th' fire, and when the hearth - Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth; - When up the Thyrse is raised, and when the sound - Of sacred orgies, flies A round, A round; - When the rose reigns, and locks with ointments shine, - Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 4. TO HIS BOOK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Make haste away, and let one be - A friendly patron unto thee; - Lest, rapt from hence, I see thee lie - Torn for the use of pastery; - Or see thy injured leaves serve well - To make loose gowns for mackarel; - Or see the grocers, in a trice, - Make hoods of thee to serve out spice. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 5. TO HIS BOOK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Take mine advice, and go not near - Those faces, sour as vinegar; - For these, and nobler numbers, can - Ne'er please the supercilious man. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 6. TO HIS BOOK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Be bold, my Book, nor be abash'd, or fear - The cutting thumb-nail, or the brow severe; - But by the Muses swear, all here is good, - If but well read, or ill read, understood. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 7. TO MISTRESS KATHARINE BRADSHAW, THE LOVELY, THAT CROWNED HIM WITH - LAUREL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - My Muse in meads has spent her many hours - Sitting, and sorting several sorts of flowers, - To make for others garlands; and to set - On many a head here, many a coronet. - But amongst all encircled here, not one - Gave her a day of coronation; - Till you, sweet mistress, came and interwove - A laurel for her, ever young as Love. - You first of all crown'd her; she must, of due, - Render for that, a crown of life to you. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 8. TO HIS VERSES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - What will ye, my poor orphans, do, - When I must leave the world and you; - Who'll give ye then a sheltering shed, - Or credit ye, when I am dead? - Who'll let ye by their fire sit, - Although ye have a stock of wit, - Already coin'd to pay for it? - —I cannot tell: unless there be - Some race of old humanity - Left, of the large heart and long hand, - Alive, as noble Westmorland; - Or gallant Newark; which brave two - May fost'ring fathers be to you. - If not, expect to be no less - Ill used, than babes left fatherless. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 9. NOT EVERY DAY FIT FOR VERSE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - 'Tis not ev'ry day that I - Fitted am to prophesy: - No, but when the spirit fills - The fantastic pannicles, - Full of fire, then I write - As the Godhead doth indite. - Thus enraged, my lines are hurl'd, - Like the Sibyl's, through the world: - Look how next the holy fire - Either slakes, or doth retire; - So the fancy cools:—till when - That brave spirit comes again. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 10. HIS PRAYER TO BEN JONSON - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When I a verse shall make, - Know I have pray'd thee, - For old religion's sake, - Saint Ben, to aid me - - Make the way smooth for me, - When, I, thy Herrick, - Honouring thee on my knee - Offer my Lyric. - - Candles I'll give to thee, - And a new altar; - And thou, Saint Ben, shalt be - Writ in my psalter. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 11. HIS REQUEST TO JULIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Julia, if I chance to die - Ere I print my poetry, - I most humbly thee desire - To commit it to the fire: - Better 'twere my book were dead, - Than to live not perfected. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 12. TO HIS BOOK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Go thou forth, my book, though late, - Yet be timely fortunate. - It may chance good luck may send - Thee a kinsman or a friend, - That may harbour thee, when I - With my fates neglected lie. - If thou know'st not where to dwell, - See, the fire's by.—Farewell! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 13. HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Only a little more - I have to write: - Then I'll give o'er, - And bid the world good-night. - - 'Tis but a flying minute, - That I must stay, - Or linger in it: - And then I must away. - - O Time, that cut'st down all, - And scarce leav'st here - Memorial - Of any men that were; - - —How many lie forgot - In vaults beneath, - And piece-meal rot - Without a fame in death? - - Behold this living stone - I rear for me, - Ne'er to be thrown - Down, envious Time, by thee. - - Pillars let some set up - If so they please; - Here is my hope, - And my Pyramides. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 14. TO HIS BOOK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - If hap it must, that I must see thee lie - Absyrtus-like, all torn confusedly; - With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart, - I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part; - And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chest - With spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 15. UPON HIMSELF - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Thou shalt not all die; for while Love's fire shines - Upon his altar, men shall read thy lines; - And learn'd musicians shall, to honour Herrick's - Fame, and his name, both set and sing his lyrics. - - To his book's end this last line he'd have placed:— - Jocund his Muse was, but his Life was chaste. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - IDYLLICA - </h2> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 16. THE COUNTRY LIFE: - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - TO THE HONOURED MR ENDYMION PORTER, - GROOM OF THE BED-CHAMBER TO HIS MAJESTY - - Sweet country life, to such unknown, - Whose lives are others', not their own! - But serving courts and cities, be - Less happy, less enjoying thee. - Thou never plough'st the ocean's foam - To seek and bring rough pepper home: - Nor to the Eastern Ind dost rove - To bring from thence the scorched clove: - Nor, with the loss of thy loved rest, - Bring'st home the ingot from the West. - No, thy ambition's master-piece - Flies no thought higher than a fleece: - Or how to pay thy hinds, and clear - All scores: and so to end the year: - But walk'st about thine own dear bounds, - Not envying others' larger grounds: - For well thou know'st, 'tis not th' extent - Of land makes life, but sweet content. - When now the cock (the ploughman's horn) - Calls forth the lily-wristed morn; - Then to thy corn-fields thou dost go, - Which though well soil'd, yet thou dost know - That the best compost for the lands - Is the wise master's feet, and hands. - There at the plough thou find'st thy team, - With a hind whistling there to them: - And cheer'st them up, by singing how - The kingdom's portion is the plough. - This done, then to th' enamell'd meads - Thou go'st; and as thy foot there treads, - Thou seest a present God-like power - Imprinted in each herb and flower: - And smell'st the breath of great-eyed kine, - Sweet as the blossoms of the vine. - Here thou behold'st thy large sleek neat - Unto the dew-laps up in meat: - And, as thou look'st, the wanton steer, - The heifer, cow, and ox draw near, - To make a pleasing pastime there. - These seen, thou go'st to view thy flocks - Of sheep, safe from the wolf and fox, - And find'st their bellies there as full - Of short sweet grass, as backs with wool: - And leav'st them, as they feed and fill, - A shepherd piping on a hill. - - For sports, for pageantry, and plays, - Thou hast thy eves, and holydays: - On which the young men and maids meet, - To exercise their dancing feet: - Tripping the comely country Round, - With daffadils and daisies crown'd. - Thy wakes, thy quintels, here thou hast, - Thy May-poles too with garlands graced; - Thy Morris-dance; thy Whitsun-ale; - Thy shearing-feast, which never fail. - Thy harvest home; thy wassail bowl, - That's toss'd up after Fox i' th' hole: - Thy mummeries; thy Twelve-tide kings - And queens; thy Christmas revellings: - Thy nut-brown mirth, thy russet wit, - And no man pays too dear for it.— - To these, thou hast thy times to go - And trace the hare i' th' treacherous snow: - Thy witty wiles to draw, and get - The lark into the trammel net: - Thou hast thy cockrood, and thy glade - To take the precious pheasant made: - Thy lime-twigs, snares, and pit-falls then - To catch the pilfering birds, not men. - - —O happy life! if that their good - The husbandmen but understood! - Who all the day themselves do please, - And younglings, with such sports as these: - And lying down, have nought t' affright - Sweet Sleep, that makes more short the night. - CAETERA DESUNT— -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 17. TO PHILLIS, TO LOVE AND LIVE WITH HIM - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Live, live with me, and thou shalt see - The pleasures I'll prepare for thee: - What sweets the country can afford - Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board. - The soft sweet moss shall be thy bed, - With crawling woodbine over-spread: - By which the silver-shedding streams - Shall gently melt thee into dreams. - Thy clothing next, shall be a gown - Made of the fleeces' purest down. - The tongues of kids shall be thy meat; - Their milk thy drink; and thou shalt eat - The paste of filberts for thy bread - With cream of cowslips buttered: - Thy feasting-table shall be hills - With daisies spread, and daffadils; - Where thou shalt sit, and Red-breast by, - For meat, shall give thee melody. - I'll give thee chains and carcanets - Of primroses and violets. - A bag and bottle thou shalt have, - That richly wrought, and this as brave; - So that as either shall express - The wearer's no mean shepherdess. - At shearing-times, and yearly wakes, - When Themilis his pastime makes, - There thou shalt be; and be the wit, - Nay more, the feast, and grace of it. - On holydays, when virgins meet - To dance the heys with nimble feet, - Thou shalt come forth, and then appear - The Queen of Roses for that year. - And having danced ('bove all the best) - Carry the garland from the rest, - In wicker-baskets maids shall bring - To thee, my dearest shepherdling, - The blushing apple, bashful pear, - And shame-faced plum, all simp'ring there. - Walk in the groves, and thou shalt find - The name of Phillis in the rind - Of every straight and smooth-skin tree; - Where kissing that, I'll twice kiss thee. - To thee a sheep-hook I will send, - Be-prank'd with ribbands, to this end, - This, this alluring hook might be - Less for to catch a sheep, than me. - Thou shalt have possets, wassails fine, - Not made of ale, but spiced wine; - To make thy maids and self free mirth, - All sitting near the glitt'ring hearth. - Thou shalt have ribbands, roses, rings, - Gloves, garters, stockings, shoes, and strings - Of winning colours, that shall move - Others to lust, but me to love. - —These, nay, and more, thine own shall be, - If thou wilt love, and live with me. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 18. THE WASSAIL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Give way, give way, ye gates, and win - An easy blessing to your bin - And basket, by our entering in. - - May both with manchet stand replete; - Your larders, too, so hung with meat, - That though a thousand, thousand eat, - - Yet, ere twelve moons shall whirl about - Their silv'ry spheres, there's none may doubt - But more's sent in than was served out. - - Next, may your dairies prosper so, - As that your pans no ebb may know; - But if they do, the more to flow, - - Like to a solemn sober stream, - Bank'd all with lilies, and the cream - Of sweetest cowslips filling them. - - Then may your plants be press'd with fruit, - Nor bee or hive you have be mute, - But sweetly sounding like a lute. - - Last, may your harrows, shares, and ploughs, - Your stacks, your stocks, your sweetest mows, - All prosper by your virgin-vows. - - —Alas! we bless, but see none here, - That brings us either ale or beer; - In a dry-house all things are near. - - Let's leave a longer time to wait, - Where rust and cobwebs bind the gate; - And all live here with needy fate; - - Where chimneys do for ever weep - For want of warmth, and stomachs keep - With noise the servants' eyes from sleep. - - It is in vain to sing, or stay - Our free feet here, but we'll away: - Yet to the Lares this we'll say: - - 'The time will come when you'll be sad, - 'And reckon this for fortune bad, - 'T'ave lost the good ye might have had.' -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 19. THE FAIRIES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - If ye will with Mab find grace, - Set each platter in his place; - Rake the fire up, and get - Water in, ere sun be set. - Wash your pails and cleanse your dairies, - Sluts are loathsome to the fairies; - Sweep your house; Who doth not so, - Mab will pinch her by the toe. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 20. CEREMONY UPON CANDLEMAS EVE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Down with the rosemary, and so - Down with the bays and misletoe; - Down with the holly, ivy, all - Wherewith ye dress'd the Christmas hall; - That so the superstitious find - No one least branch there left behind; - For look, how many leaves there be - Neglected there, maids, trust to me, - So many goblins you shall see. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 21. CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Down with the rosemary and bays, - Down with the misletoe; - Instead of holly, now up-raise - The greener box, for show. - - The holly hitherto did sway; - Let box now domineer, - Until the dancing Easter-day, - Or Easter's eve appear. - - Then youthful box, which now hath grace - Your houses to renew, - Grown old, surrender must his place - Unto the crisped yew. - - When yew is out, then birch comes in, - And many flowers beside, - Both of a fresh and fragrant kin, - To honour Whitsuntide. - - Green rushes then, and sweetest bents, - With cooler oaken boughs, - Come in for comely ornaments, - To re-adorn the house. - Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold; - New things succeed, as former things grow old. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 22. THE CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS DAY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Kindle the Christmas brand, and then - Till sunset let it burn; - Which quench'd, then lay it up again, - Till Christmas next return. - - Part must be kept, wherewith to teend - The Christmas log next year; - And where 'tis safely kept, the fiend - Can do no mischief there. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 23. FAREWELL FROST, OR WELCOME SPRING - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Fled are the frosts, and now the fields appear - Reclothed in fresh and verdant diaper; - Thaw'd are the snows; and now the lusty Spring - Gives to each mead a neat enamelling; - The palms put forth their gems, and every tree - Now swaggers in her leafy gallantry. - The while the Daulian minstrel sweetly sings - With warbling notes her Terean sufferings. - —What gentle winds perspire! as if here - Never had been the northern plunderer - To strip the trees and fields, to their distress, - Leaving them to a pitied nakedness. - And look how when a frantic storm doth tear - A stubborn oak or holm, long growing there,— - But lull'd to calmness, then succeeds a breeze - That scarcely stirs the nodding leaves of trees; - So when this war, which tempest-like doth spoil - Our salt, our corn, our honey, wine, and oil, - Falls to a temper, and doth mildly cast - His inconsiderate frenzy off, at last, - The gentle dove may, when these turmoils cease, - Bring in her bill, once more, the branch of Peace. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 24. TO THE MAIDS, TO WALK ABROAD - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Come, sit we under yonder tree, - Where merry as the maids we'll be; - And as on primroses we sit, - We'll venture, if we can, at wit; - If not, at draw-gloves we will play, - So spend some minutes of the day; - Or else spin out the thread of sands, - Playing at questions and commands: - Or tell what strange tricks Love can do, - By quickly making one of two. - Thus we will sit and talk, but tell - No cruel truths of Philomel, - Or Phillis, whom hard fate forced on - To kill herself for Demophon; - But fables we'll relate; how Jove - Put on all shapes to get a Love; - As now a satyr, then a swan, - A bull but then, and now a man. - Next, we will act how young men woo, - And sigh and kiss as lovers do; - And talk of brides; and who shall make - That wedding-smock, this bridal-cake, - That dress, this sprig, that leaf, this vine, - That smooth and silken columbine. - This done, we'll draw lots who shall buy - And gild the bays and rosemary; - What posies for our wedding rings; - What gloves we'll give, and ribbonings; - And smiling at our selves, decree - Who then the joining priest shall be; - What short sweet prayers shall be said, - And how the posset shall be made - With cream of lilies, not of kine, - And maiden's-blush for spiced wine. - Thus having talk'd, we'll next commend - A kiss to each, and so we'll end. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 25. CORINA'S GOING A MAYING - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Get up, get up for shame! the blooming morn - Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. - See how Aurora throws her fair - Fresh-quilted colours through the air: - Get up, sweet-slug-a-bed, and see - The dew bespangling herb and tree. - Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east, - Above an hour since; yet you not drest, - Nay! not so much as out of bed? - When all the birds have matins said, - And sung their thankful hymns: 'tis sin, - Nay, profanation, to keep in,— - Whenas a thousand virgins on this day, - Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May. - - Rise; and put on your foliage, and be seen - To come forth, like the Spring-time, fresh and green, - And sweet as Flora. Take no care - For jewels for your gown, or hair: - Fear not; the leaves will strew - Gems in abundance upon you: - Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, - Against you come, some orient pearls unwept: - Come, and receive them while the light - Hangs on the dew-locks of the night: - And Titan on the eastern hill - Retires himself, or else stands still - Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying: - Few beads are best, when once we go a Maying. - - Come, my Corinna, come; and coming, mark - How each field turns a street; each street a park - Made green, and trimm'd with trees: see how - Devotion gives each house a bough - Or branch: each porch, each door, ere this, - An ark, a tabernacle is - Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove; - As if here were those cooler shades of love. - Can such delights be in the street, - And open fields, and we not see't? - Come, we'll abroad: and let's obey - The proclamation made for May: - And sin no more, as we have done, by staying; - But, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying. - - There's not a budding boy, or girl, this day, - But is got up, and gone to bring in May. - A deal of youth, ere this, is come - Back, and with white-thorn laden home. - Some have dispatch'd their cakes and cream, - Before that we have left to dream: - And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth, - And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth: - Many a green-gown has been given; - Many a kiss, both odd and even: - Many a glance, too, has been sent - From out the eye, love's firmament: - Many a jest told of the keys betraying - This night, and locks pick'd:—yet we're not a Maying. - - —Come, let us go, while we are in our prime; - And take the harmless folly of the time! - We shall grow old apace, and die - Before we know our liberty. - Our life is short; and our days run - As fast away as does the sun:— - And as a vapour, or a drop of rain - Once lost, can ne'er be found again: - So when or you or I are made - A fable, song, or fleeting shade; - All love, all liking, all delight - Lies drown'd with us in endless night. - —Then while time serves, and we are but decaying, - Come, my Corinna! come, let's go a Maying. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 26. THE MAYPOLE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - The May-pole is up, - Now give me the cup; - I'll drink to the garlands around it; - But first unto those - Whose hands did compose - The glory of flowers that crown'd it. - - A health to my girls, - Whose husbands may earls - Or lords be, granting my wishes, - And when that ye wed - To the bridal bed, - Then multiply all, like to fishes. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 27. THE WAKE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Come, Anthea, let us two - Go to feast, as others do: - Tarts and custards, creams and cakes, - Are the junkets still at wakes; - Unto which the tribes resort, - Where the business is the sport: - Morris-dancers thou shalt see, - Marian, too, in pageantry; - And a mimic to devise - Many grinning properties. - Players there will be, and those - Base in action as in clothes; - Yet with strutting they will please - The incurious villages. - Near the dying of the day - There will be a cudgel-play, - Where a coxcomb will be broke, - Ere a good word can be spoke: - But the anger ends all here, - Drench'd in ale, or drown'd in beer. - —Happy rusticks! best content - With the cheapest merriment; - And possess no other fear, - Than to want the Wake next year. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 28. THE HOCK-CART, OR HARVEST HOME: TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE MILDMAY, EARL - OF WESTMORLAND - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Come, Sons of Summer, by whose toil - We are the lords of wine and oil: - By whose tough labours, and rough hands, - We rip up first, then reap our lands. - Crown'd with the ears of corn, now come, - And, to the pipe, sing Harvest Home. - - Come forth, my lord, and see the cart - Drest up with all the country art. - See, here a maukin, there a sheet, - As spotless pure, as it is sweet: - The horses, mares, and frisking fillies, - Clad, all, in linen white as lilies. - The harvest swains and wenches bound - For joy, to see the Hock-Cart crown'd. - About the cart, hear, how the rout - Of rural younglings raise the shout; - Pressing before, some coming after, - Those with a shout, and these with laughter. - Some bless the cart; some kiss the sheaves; - Some prank them up with oaken leaves: - Some cross the fill-horse; some with great - Devotion, stroke the home-borne wheat: - While other rustics, less attent - To prayers, than to merriment, - Run after with their breeches rent. - —Well, on, brave boys, to your lord's hearth, - Glitt'ring with fire; where, for your mirth, - Ye shall see first the large and chief - Foundation of your feast, fat beef; - With upper stories, mutton, veal - And bacon, which makes full the meal, - With sev'ral dishes standing by, - As here a custard, there a pie, - And here, all tempting frumenty. - And for to make the merry cheer, - If smirking wine be wanting here, - There's that which drowns all care, stout beer: - Which freely drink to your lord's health - Then to the plough, the common-wealth; - Next to your flails, your fanes, your vats; - Then to the maids with wheaten hats: - To the rough sickle, and crookt scythe,— - Drink, frolic, boys, till all be blythe. - Feed, and grow fat; and as ye eat, - Be mindful, that the lab'ring neat, - As you, may have their fill of meat. - And know, besides, ye must revoke - The patient ox unto the yoke, - And all go back unto the plough - And harrow, though they're hang'd up now. - And, you must know, your lord's word's true, - Feed him ye must, whose food fills you; - And that this pleasure is like rain, - Not sent ye for to drown your pain, - But for to make it spring again. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 29. THE BRIDE-CAKE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - This day, my Julia, thou must make - For Mistress Bride the wedding-cake: - Knead but the dough, and it will be - To paste of almonds turn'd by thee; - Or kiss it thou but once or twice, - And for the bride-cake there'll be spice. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 30. THE OLD WIVES' PRAYER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Holy-Rood, come forth and shield - Us i' th' city and the field; - Safely guard us, now and aye, - From the blast that burns by day; - And those sounds that us affright - In the dead of dampish night; - Drive all hurtful fiends us fro, - By the time the cocks first crow. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 31. THE BELL-MAN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - From noise of scare-fires rest ye free - From murders, Benedicite; - From all mischances that may fright - Your pleasing slumbers in the night - Mercy secure ye all, and keep - The goblin from ye, while ye sleep. - —Past one a clock, and almost two,— - My masters all, 'Good day to you.' -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 33. TO THE GENIUS OF HIS HOUSE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence - Into this house pour down thy influence, - That through each room a golden pipe may run - Of living water by thy benizon; - Fulfil the larders, and with strength'ning bread - Be ever-more these bins replenished. - Next, like a bishop consecrate my ground, - That lucky fairies here may dance their round; - And, after that, lay down some silver pence, - The master's charge and care to recompence. - Charm then the chambers; make the beds for ease, - More than for peevish pining sicknesses; - Fix the foundation fast, and let the roof - Grow old with time, but yet keep weather-proof. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 33. HIS GRANGE, OR PRIVATE WEALTH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Though clock, - To tell how night draws hence, I've none, - A cock - I have to sing how day draws on: - I have - A maid, my Prue, by good luck sent, - To save - That little, Fates me gave or lent. - A hen - I keep, which, creeking day by day, - Tells when - She goes her long white egg to lay: - A goose - I have, which, with a jealous ear, - Lets loose - Her tongue, to tell what danger's near. - A lamb - I keep, tame, with my morsels fed, - Whose dam - An orphan left him, lately dead: - A cat - I keep, that plays about my house, - Grown fat - With eating many a miching mouse: - To these - A Trasy I do keep, whereby - I please - The more my rural privacy: - Which are - But toys, to give my heart some ease:— - Where care - None is, slight things do lightly please. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 34. A PASTORAL UPON THE BIRTH OF PRINCE CHARLES: PRESENTED TO THE KING, - AND SET BY MR NIC. LANIERE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - THE SPEAKERS: MIRTILLO, AMINTAS, AND AMARILLIS - - AMIN. Good day, Mirtillo. MIRT. And to you no less; - And all fair signs lead on our shepherdess. - AMAR. With all white luck to you. MIRT. But say, - What news - Stirs in our sheep-walk? AMIN. None, save that my - ewes, - My wethers, lambs, and wanton kids are well, - Smooth, fair, and fat; none better I can tell: - Or that this day Menalchas keeps a feast - For his sheep-shearers. MIRT. True, these are the least. - But dear Amintas, and sweet Amarillis, - Rest but a while here by this bank of lilies; - And lend a gentle ear to one report - The country has. AMIN. From whence? AMAR. From - whence? MIRT. The Court. - Three days before the shutting-in of May, - (With whitest wool be ever crown'd that day!) - To all our joy, a sweet-faced child was born, - More tender than the childhood of the morn. - CHORUS:—Pan pipe to him, and bleats of lambs and - sheep - Let lullaby the pretty prince asleep! - MIRT. And that his birth should be more singular, - At noon of day was seen a silver star, - Bright as the wise men's torch, which guided them - To God's sweet babe, when born at Bethlehem; - While golden angels, some have told to me, - Sung out his birth with heav'nly minstrelsy. - AMIN. O rare! But is't a trespass, if we three - Should wend along his baby-ship to see? - MIRT. Not so, not so. CHOR. But if it chance to prove - At most a fault, 'tis but a fault of love. - AMAR. But, dear Mirtillo, I have heard it told, - Those learned men brought incense, myrrh, and gold, - From countries far, with store of spices sweet, - And laid them down for offerings at his feet. - MIRT. 'Tis true, indeed; and each of us will bring - Unto our smiling and our blooming King, - A neat, though not so great an offering. - AMAR. A garland for my gift shall be, - Of flowers ne'er suck'd by th' thieving bee; - And all most sweet, yet all less sweet than he. - AMIN. And I will bear along with you - Leaves dropping down the honied dew, - With oaten pipes, as sweet, as new. - MIRT. And I a sheep-hook will bestow - To have his little King-ship know, - As he is Prince, he's Shepherd too. - CHOR. Come, let's away, and quickly let's be drest, - And quickly give:—the swiftest grace is best. - And when before him we have laid our treasures, - We'll bless the babe:—then back to country pleasures. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 35. A DIALOGUE BETWIXT HIMSELF AND MISTRESS ELIZA WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME - OF AMARILLIS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - My dearest Love, since thou wilt go, - And leave me here behind thee; - For love or pity, let me know - The place where I may find thee. - - AMARIL. In country meadows, pearl'd with dew, - And set about with lilies; - There, filling maunds with cowslips, you - May find your Amarillis. - - HER. What have the meads to do with thee, - Or with thy youthful hours? - Live thou at court, where thou mayst be - The queen of men, not flowers. - - Let country wenches make 'em fine - With posies, since 'tis fitter - For thee with richest gems to shine, - And like the stars to glitter. - - AMARIL. You set too-high a rate upon - A shepherdess so homely. - HER. Believe it, dearest, there's not one - I' th' court that's half so comely. - - I prithee stay. AMARIL. I must away; - Let's kiss first, then we'll sever; - AMBO And though we bid adieu to day, - We shall not part for ever. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 36. A BUCOLIC BETWIXT TWO; LACON AND THYRSIS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - LACON. For a kiss or two, confess, - What doth cause this pensiveness, - Thou most lovely neat-herdess? - Why so lonely on the hill? - Why thy pipe by thee so still, - That erewhile was heard so shrill? - Tell me, do thy kine now fail - To fulfil the milking-pail? - Say, what is't that thou dost ail? - - THYR. None of these; but out, alas! - A mischance is come to pass, - And I'll tell thee what it was: - See, mine eyes are weeping ripe. - LACON. Tell, and I'll lay down my pipe. - - THYR. I have lost my lovely steer, - That to me was far more dear - Than these kine which I milk here; - Broad of forehead, large of eye, - Party-colour'd like a pye, - Smooth in each limb as a die; - Clear of hoof, and clear of horn, - Sharply pointed as a thorn; - With a neck by yoke unworn, - From the which hung down by strings, - Balls of cowslips, daisy rings, - Interplaced with ribbonings; - Faultless every way for shape; - Not a straw could him escape, - Ever gamesome as an ape, - But yet harmless as a sheep. - Pardon, Lacon, if I weep; - Tears will spring where woes are deep. - Now, ai me! ai me! Last night - Came a mad dog, and did bite, - Ay, and kill'd my dear delight. - - LACON Alack, for grief! - THYR. But I'll be brief. - Hence I must, for time doth call - Me, and my sad playmates all, - To his evening funeral. - Live long, Lacon; so adieu! - - LACON Mournful maid, farewell to you; - Earth afford ye flowers to strew! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 37. A PASTORAL SUNG TO THE KING - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - MONTANO, SILVIO, AND MIRTILLO, SHEPHERDS - - MON. Bad are the times. SIL. And worse than they are we. - MON. Troth, bad are both; worse fruit, and ill the tree: - The feast of shepherds fail. SIL. None crowns the cup - Of wassail now, or sets the quintel up: - And he, who used to lead the country-round, - Youthful Mirtillo, here he comes, grief-drown'd. - AMBO. Let's cheer him up. SIL. Behold him weeping-ripe. - MIRT. Ah, Amarillis! farewell mirth and pipe; - Since thou art gone, no more I mean to play - To these smooth lawns, my mirthful roundelay. - Dear Amarillis! MON. Hark! SIL. Mark! MIRT. This - earth grew sweet - Where, Amarillis, thou didst set thy feet. - AMBO Poor pitied youth! MIRT. And here the breath - of kine - And sheep grew more sweet by that breath of thine. - This dock of wool, and this rich lock of hair, - This ball of cowslips, these she gave me here. - SIL. Words sweet as love itself. MON. Hark!— - MIRT. This way she came, and this way too she went; - How each thing smells divinely redolent! - Like to a field of beans, when newly blown, - Or like a meadow being lately mown. - MON. A sweet sad passion—— - MIRT. In dewy mornings, when she came this way, - Sweet bents would bow, to give my Love the day; - And when at night she folded had her sheep, - Daisies would shut, and closing, sigh and weep. - Besides (Ai me!) since she went hence to dwell, - The Voice's Daughter ne'er spake syllable. - But she is gone. SIL. Mirtillo, tell us whither? - MIRT. Where she and I shall never meet together. - MON. Fore-fend it, Pan! and Pales, do thou please - To give an end... MIRT. To what? SIL. Such griefs - as these. - MIRT. Never, O never! Still I may endure - The wound I suffer, never find a cure. - MON. Love, for thy sake, will bring her to these hills - And dales again. MIRT. No, I will languish still; - And all the while my part shall be to weep; - And with my sighs call home my bleating sheep; - And in the rind of every comely tree - I'll carve thy name, and in that name kiss thee. - MON. Set with the sun, thy woes! SIL. The day - grows old; - And time it is our full-fed flocks to fold. - CHOR. The shades grow great; but greater grows - our sorrow:— - But let's go steep - Our eyes in sleep; - And meet to weep - To-morrow. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 38. TO THE WILLOW-TREE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Thou art to all lost love the best, - The only true plant found, - Wherewith young men and maids distrest - And left of love, are crown'd. - - When once the lover's rose is dead - Or laid aside forlorn, - Then willow-garlands, 'bout the head, - Bedew'd with tears, are worn. - - When with neglect, the lover's bane, - Poor maids rewarded be, - For their love lost their only gain - Is but a wreath from thee. - - And underneath thy cooling shade, - When weary of the light, - The love-spent youth, and love-sick maid, - Come to weep out the night. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 39. THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR, OBERON'S CHAPEL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - DEDICATED TO MR JOHN MERRIFIELD, - COUNSELLOR AT LAW - - RARE TEMPLES THOU HAST SEEN, I KNOW, - AND RICH FOR IN AND OUTWARD SHOW; - SURVEY THIS CHAPEL BUILT, ALONE, - WITHOUT OR LIME, OR WOOD, OR STONE. - THEN SAY, IF ONE THOU'ST SEEN MORE FINE - THAN THIS, THE FAIRIES' ONCE, NOW THINE. - - THE TEMPLE - - A way enchaced with glass and beads - There is, that to the Chapel leads; - Whose structure, for his holy rest, - Is here the Halcyon's curious nest; - Into the which who looks, shall see - His Temple of Idolatry; - Where he of god-heads has such store, - As Rome's Pantheon had not more. - His house of Rimmon this he calls, - Girt with small bones, instead of walls. - First in a niche, more black than jet, - His idol-cricket there is set; - Then in a polish'd oval by - There stands his idol-beetle-fly; - Next, in an arch, akin to this, - His idol-canker seated is. - Then in a round, is placed by these - His golden god, Cantharides. - So that where'er ye look, ye see - No capital, no cornice free, - Or frieze, from this fine frippery. - Now this the Fairies would have known, - Theirs is a mixt religion: - And some have heard the elves it call - Part Pagan, part Papistical. - If unto me all tongues were granted, - I could not speak the saints here painted. - Saint Tit, Saint Nit, Saint Is, Saint Itis, - Who 'gainst Mab's state placed here right is. - Saint Will o' th' Wisp, of no great bigness, - But, alias, call'd here FATUUS IGNIS. - Saint Frip, Saint Trip, Saint Fill, Saint Filly;— - Neither those other saint-ships will I - Here go about for to recite - Their number, almost infinite; - Which, one by one, here set down are - In this most curious calendar. - - First, at the entrance of the gate, - A little puppet-priest doth wait, - Who squeaks to all the comers there, - 'Favour your tongues, who enter here. - 'Pure hands bring hither, without stain.' - A second pules, 'Hence, hence, profane!' - Hard by, i' th' shell of half a nut, - The holy-water there is put; - A little brush of squirrels' hairs, - Composed of odd, not even pairs, - Stands in the platter, or close by, - To purge the fairy family. - Near to the altar stands the priest, - There offering up the holy-grist; - Ducking in mood and perfect tense, - With (much good do't him) reverence. - The altar is not here four-square, - Nor in a form triangular; - Nor made of glass, or wood, or stone, - But of a little transverse bone; - Which boys and bruckel'd children call - (Playing for points and pins) cockall. - Whose linen-drapery is a thin, - Subtile, and ductile codling's skin; - Which o'er the board is smoothly spread - With little seal-work damasked. - The fringe that circumbinds it, too, - Is spangle-work of trembling dew, - Which, gently gleaming, makes a show, - Like frost-work glitt'ring on the snow. - Upon this fetuous board doth stand - Something for shew-bread, and at hand - (Just in the middle of the altar) - Upon an end, the Fairy-psalter, - Graced with the trout-flies' curious wings, - Which serve for watchet ribbonings. - Now, we must know, the elves are led - Right by the Rubric, which they read: - And if report of them be true, - They have their text for what they do; - Ay, and their book of canons too. - And, as Sir Thomas Parson tells, - They have their book of articles; - And if that Fairy knight not lies - They have their book of homilies; - And other Scriptures, that design - A short, but righteous discipline. - The bason stands the board upon - To take the free-oblation; - A little pin-dust, which they hold - More precious than we prize our gold; - Which charity they give to many - Poor of the parish, if there's any. - Upon the ends of these neat rails, - Hatch'd with the silver-light of snails, - The elves, in formal manner, fix - Two pure and holy candlesticks, - In either which a tall small bent - Burns for the altar's ornament. - For sanctity, they have, to these, - Their curious copes and surplices - Of cleanest cobweb, hanging by - In their religious vestery. - They have their ash-pans and their brooms, - To purge the chapel and the rooms; - Their many mumbling mass-priests here, - And many a dapper chorister. - Their ush'ring vergers here likewise, - Their canons and their chaunteries; - Of cloister-monks they have enow, - Ay, and their abbey-lubbers too:— - And if their legend do not lie, - They much affect the papacy; - And since the last is dead, there's hope - Elve Boniface shall next be Pope. - They have their cups and chalices, - Their pardons and indulgences, - Their beads of nits, bells, books, and wax- - Candles, forsooth, and other knacks; - Their holy oil, their fasting-spittle, - Their sacred salt here, not a little. - Dry chips, old shoes, rags, grease, and bones, - Beside their fumigations. - Many a trifle, too, and trinket, - And for what use, scarce man would think it. - Next then, upon the chanter's side - An apple's-core is hung up dried, - With rattling kernels, which is rung - To call to morn and even-song. - The saint, to which the most he prays - And offers incense nights and days, - The lady of the lobster is, - Whose foot-pace he doth stroke and kiss, - And, humbly, chives of saffron brings - For his most cheerful offerings. - When, after these, he's paid his vows, - He lowly to the altar bows; - And then he dons the silk-worm's shed, - Like a Turk's turban on his head, - And reverently departeth thence, - Hid in a cloud of frankincense; - And by the glow-worm's light well guided, - Goes to the Feast that's now provided. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0044" id="link2H_4_0044"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 40. OBERON'S FEAST - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - SHAPCOT! TO THE THE FAIRY STATE - I WITH DISCRETION DEDICATE: - BECAUSE THOU PRIZEST THINGS THAT ARE - CURIOUS AND UNFAMILIAR. - TAKE FIRST THE FEAST; THESE DISHES GONE, - WE'LL SEE THE FAIRY COURT ANON. - - A little mushroom-table spread, - After short prayers, they set on bread, - A moon-parch'd grain of purest wheat, - With some small glitt'ring grit, to eat - His choice bits with; then in a trice - They make a feast less great than nice. - But all this while his eye is served, - We must not think his ear was sterved; - But that there was in place to stir - His spleen, the chirring grasshopper, - The merry cricket, puling fly, - The piping gnat for minstrelsy. - And now, we must imagine first, - The elves present, to quench his thirst, - A pure seed-pearl of infant dew, - Brought and besweeten'd in a blue - And pregnant violet; which done, - His kitling eyes begin to run - Quite through the table, where he spies - The horns of papery butterflies, - Of which he eats; and tastes a little - Of that we call the cuckoo's spittle; - A little fuz-ball pudding stands - By, yet not blessed by his hands, - That was too coarse; but then forthwith - He ventures boldly on the pith - Of sugar'd rush, and eats the sagge - And well-bestrutted bees' sweet bag; - Gladding his palate with some store - Of emmets' eggs; what would he more? - But beards of mice, a newt's stew'd thigh, - A bloated earwig, and a fly; - With the red-capt worm, that's shut - Within the concave of a nut, - Brown as his tooth. A little moth, - Late fatten'd in a piece of cloth; - With wither'd cherries, mandrakes' ears, - Moles' eyes: to these the slain stag's tears; - The unctuous dewlaps of a snail, - The broke-heart of a nightingale - O'ercome in music; with a wine - Ne'er ravish'd from the flattering vine, - But gently prest from the soft side - Of the most sweet and dainty bride, - Brought in a dainty daisy, which - He fully quaffs up, to bewitch - His blood to height; this done, commended - Grace by his priest; The feast is ended. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0045" id="link2H_4_0045"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 41. THE BEGGAR TO MAB, THE FAIRY QUEEN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Please your Grace, from out your store - Give an alms to one that's poor, - That your mickle may have more. - Black I'm grown for want of meat, - Give me then an ant to eat, - Or the cleft ear of a mouse - Over-sour'd in drink of souce; - Or, sweet lady, reach to me - The abdomen of a bee; - Or commend a cricket's hip, - Or his huckson, to my scrip; - Give for bread, a little bit - Of a pease that 'gins to chit, - And my full thanks take for it. - Flour of fuz-balls, that's too good - For a man in needy-hood; - But the meal of mill-dust can - Well content a craving man; - Any orts the elves refuse - Well will serve the beggar's use. - But if this may seem too much - For an alms, then give me such - Little bits that nestle there - In the pris'ner's pannier. - So a blessing light upon - You, and mighty Oberon; - That your plenty last till when - I return your alms again. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0046" id="link2H_4_0046"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 42. THE HAG - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - The Hag is astride, - This night for to ride, - The devil and she together; - Through thick and through thin, - Now out, and then in, - Though ne'er so foul be the weather. - - A thorn or a bur - She takes for a spur; - With a lash of a bramble she rides now, - Through brakes and through briars, - O'er ditches and mires, - She follows the spirit that guides now. - - No beast, for his food, - Dares now range the wood, - But hush'd in his lair he lies lurking; - While mischiefs, by these, - On land and on seas, - At noon of night are a-working. - - The storm will arise, - And trouble the skies - This night; and, more for the wonder, - The ghost from the tomb - Affrighted shall come, - Call'd out by the clap of the thunder. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0047" id="link2H_4_0047"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 43. THE MAD MAID'S SONG - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Good morrow to the day so fair; - Good morning, sir, to you; - Good morrow to mine own torn hair, - Bedabbled with the dew. - - Good morning to this primrose too; - Good morrow to each maid; - That will with flowers the tomb bestrew - Wherein my Love is laid. - - Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me, - Alack and well-a-day! - For pity, sir, find out that bee, - Which bore my Love away. - - I'll seek him in your bonnet brave; - I'll seek him in your eyes; - Nay, now I think they've made his grave - I' th' bed of strawberries. - - I'll seek him there; I know, ere this, - The cold, cold earth doth shake him; - But I will go, or send a kiss - By you, sir, to awake him. - - Pray hurt him not; though he be dead, - He knows well who do love him; - And who with green turfs rear his head, - And who do rudely move him. - - He's soft and tender, pray take heed, - With bands of cowslips bind him, - And bring him home;—but 'tis decreed - That I shall never find him. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0048" id="link2H_4_0048"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 44. THE CHEAT OF CUPID; OR, THE UNGENTLE GUEST - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - One silent night of late, - When every creature rested, - Came one unto my gate, - And knocking, me molested. - - Who's that, said I, beats there, - And troubles thus the sleepy? - Cast off; said he, all fear, - And let not locks thus keep ye. - - For I a boy am, who - By moonless nights have swerved; - And all with showers wet through, - And e'en with cold half starved. - - I pitiful arose, - And soon a taper lighted; - And did myself disclose - Unto the lad benighted. - - I saw he had a bow, - And wings too, which did shiver; - And looking down below, - I spied he had a quiver. - - I to my chimney's shine - Brought him, as Love professes, - And chafed his hands with mine, - And dried his dropping tresses. - - But when he felt him warm'd, - Let's try this bow of ours - And string, if they be harm'd, - Said he, with these late showers. - - Forthwith his bow he bent, - And wedded string and arrow, - And struck me, that it went - Quite through my heart and marrow - - Then laughing loud, he flew - Away, and thus said flying, - Adieu, mine host, adieu, - I'll leave thy heart a-dying. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0049" id="link2H_4_0049"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 45. UPON CUPID - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Love, like a gipsy, lately came, - And did me much importune - To see my hand, that by the same - He might foretell my fortune. - - He saw my palm; and then, said he, - I tell thee, by this score here, - That thou, within few months, shalt be - The youthful Prince D'Amour here. - - I smiled, and bade him once more prove, - And by some cross-line show it, - That I could ne'er be Prince of Love, - Though here the Princely Poet. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0050" id="link2H_4_0050"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 46. TO BE MERRY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Let's now take our time, - While we're in our prime, - And old, old age is afar off; - For the evil, evil days - Will come on apace, - Before we can be aware of. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0051" id="link2H_4_0051"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 47. UPON HIS GRAY HAIRS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Fly me not, though I be gray, - Lady, this I know you'll say; - Better look the roses red, - When with white commingled. - Black your hairs are; mine are white; - This begets the more delight, - When things meet most opposite; - As in pictures we descry - Venus standing Vulcan by. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0052" id="link2H_4_0052"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 48. AN HYMN TO THE MUSES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Honour to you who sit - Near to the well of wit, - And drink your fill of it! - - Glory and worship be - To you, sweet Maids, thrice three, - Who still inspire me; - - And teach me how to sing - Unto the lyric string, - My measures ravishing! - - Then, while I sing your praise, - My priest-hood crown with bays - Green to the end of days! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0053" id="link2H_4_0053"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 49. THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - So Good-Luck came, and on my roof did light, - Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night; - Not all at once, but gently,—as the trees - Are by the sun-beams, tickled by degrees. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0054" id="link2H_4_0054"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 50. HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - HERE, Here I live with what my board - Can with the smallest cost afford; - Though ne'er so mean the viands be, - They well content my Prue and me: - Or pea or bean, or wort or beet, - Whatever comes, Content makes sweet. - Here we rejoice, because no rent - We pay for our poor tenement; - Wherein we rest, and never fear - The landlord or the usurer. - The quarter-day does ne'er affright - Our peaceful slumbers in the night: - We eat our own, and batten more, - Because we feed on no man's score; - But pity those whose flanks grow great, - Swell'd with the lard of other's meat. - We bless our fortunes, when we see - Our own beloved privacy; - And like our living, where we're known - To very few, or else to none. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0055" id="link2H_4_0055"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 51. HIS RETURN TO LONDON - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - From the dull confines of the drooping west, - To see the day spring from the pregnant east, - Ravish'd in spirit, I come, nay more, I fly - To thee, blest place of my nativity! - Thus, thus with hallow'd foot I touch the ground, - With thousand blessings by thy fortune crown'd. - O fruitful Genius! that bestowest here - An everlasting plenty year by year; - O place! O people! manners! framed to please - All nations, customs, kindreds, languages! - I am a free-born Roman; suffer then - That I amongst you live a citizen. - London my home is; though by hard fate sent - Into a long and irksome banishment; - Yet since call'd back, henceforward let me be, - O native country, repossess'd by thee! - For, rather than I'll to the west return, - I'll beg of thee first here to have mine urn. - Weak I am grown, and must in short time fall; - Give thou my sacred reliques burial. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0056" id="link2H_4_0056"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 52. HIS DESIRE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Give me a man that is not dull, - When all the world with rifts is full; - But unamazed dares clearly sing, - Whenas the roof's a-tottering; - And though it falls, continues still - Tickling the Cittern with his quill. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0057" id="link2H_4_0057"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 53. AN ODE FOR BEN JONSON - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Ah Ben! - Say how or when - Shall we, thy guests, - Meet at those lyric feasts, - Made at the Sun, - The Dog, the Triple Tun; - Where we such clusters had, - As made us nobly wild, not mad? - And yet each verse of thine - Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine. - - My Ben! - Or come again, - Or send to us - Thy wit's great overplus; - But teach us yet - Wisely to husband it, - Lest we that talent spend; - And having once brought to an end - That precious stock,—the store - Of such a wit the world should have no more. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0058" id="link2H_4_0058"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 54. TO LIVE MERRILY, AND TO TRUST TO GOOD VERSES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Now is the time for mirth; - Nor cheek or tongue be dumb; - For with [the] flowery earth - The golden pomp is come. - - The golden pomp is come; - For now each tree does wear, - Made of her pap and gum, - Rich beads of amber here. - - Now reigns the Rose, and now - Th' Arabian dew besmears - My uncontrolled brow, - And my retorted hairs. - - Homer, this health to thee! - In sack of such a kind, - That it would make thee see, - Though thou wert ne'er so blind - - Next, Virgil I'll call forth, - To pledge this second health - In wine, whose each cup's worth - An Indian commonwealth. - - A goblet next I'll drink - To Ovid; and suppose - Made he the pledge, he'd think - The world had all one nose. - - Then this immensive cup - Of aromatic wine, - Catullus! I quaff up - To that terse muse of thine. - - Wild I am now with heat: - O Bacchus! cool thy rays; - Or frantic I shall eat - Thy Thyrse, and bite the Bays! - - Round, round, the roof does run; - And being ravish'd thus, - Come, I will drink a tun - To my Propertius. - - Now, to Tibullus next, - This flood I drink to thee; - —But stay, I see a text, - That this presents to me. - - Behold! Tibullus lies - Here burnt, whose small return - Of ashes scarce suffice - To fill a little urn. - - Trust to good verses then; - They only will aspire, - When pyramids, as men, - Are lost i' th' funeral fire. - - And when all bodies meet - In Lethe to be drown'd; - Then only numbers sweet - With endless life are crown'd. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0059" id="link2H_4_0059"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 55. THE APPARITION OF HIS, MISTRESS, CALLING HIM TO ELYSIUM - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - DESUNT NONNULLA— - - Come then, and like two doves with silvery wings, - Let our souls fly to th' shades, wherever springs - Sit smiling in the meads; where balm and oil, - Roses and cassia, crown the untill'd soil; - Where no disease reigns, or infection comes - To blast the air, but amber-gris and gums. - This, that, and ev'ry thicket doth transpire - More sweet than storax from the hallow'd fire; - Where ev'ry tree a wealthy issue bears - Of fragrant apples, blushing plums, or pears; - And all the shrubs, with sparkling spangles, shew - Like morning sun-shine, tinselling the dew. - Here in green meadows sits eternal May, - Purfling the margents, while perpetual day - So double-gilds the air, as that no night - Can ever rust th' enamel of the light: - Here naked younglings, handsome striplings, run - Their goals for virgins' kisses; which when done, - Then unto dancing forth the learned round - Commix'd they meet, with endless roses crown'd. - And here we'll sit on primrose-banks, and see - Love's chorus led by Cupid; and we'll he - Two loving followers too unto the grove, - Where poets sing the stories of our love. - There thou shalt hear divine Musaeus sing - Of Hero and Leander; then I'll bring - Thee to the stand, where honour'd Homer reads - His Odyssees and his high Iliads; - About whose throne the crowd of poets throng - To hear the incantation of his tongue: - To Linus, then to Pindar; and that done, - I'll bring thee, Herrick, to Anacreon, - Quaffing his full-crown'd bowls of burning wine, - And in his raptures speaking lines of thine, - Like to his subject; and as his frantic - Looks shew him truly Bacchanalian like, - Besmear'd with grapes,—welcome he shall thee thither, - Where both may rage, both drink and dance together. - Then stately Virgil, witty Ovid, by - Whom fair Corinna sits, and doth comply - With ivory wrists his laureat head, and steeps - His eye in dew of kisses while he sleeps. - Then soft Catullus, sharp-fang'd Martial, - And towering Lucan, Horace, Juvenal, - And snaky Persius; these, and those whom rage, - Dropt for the jars of heaven, fill'd, t' engage - All times unto their frenzies; thou shalt there - Behold them in a spacious theatre: - Among which glories, crown'd with sacred bays - And flatt'ring ivy, two recite their plays, - Beaumont and Fletcher, swans, to whom all ears - Listen, while they, like sirens in their spheres, - Sing their Evadne; and still more for thee - There yet remains to know than thou canst see - By glimm'ring of a fancy; Do but come, - And there I'll shew thee that capacious room - In which thy father, Jonson, now is placed - As in a globe of radiant fire, and graced - To be in that orb crown'd, that doth include - Those prophets of the former magnitude, - And he one chief. But hark! I hear the cock, - The bell-man of the night, proclaim the clock - Of late struck One; and now I see the prime - Of day break from the pregnant east:—'tis time - I vanish:—more I had to say, - But night determines here; Away! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0060" id="link2H_4_0060"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 56. THE INVITATION - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - To sup with thee thou didst me home invite, - And mad'st a promise that mine appetite - Should meet and tire, on such lautitious meat, - The like not Heliogabalus did eat: - And richer wine would'st give to me, thy guest, - Than Roman Sylla pour'd out at his feast. - I came, 'tis true, and look'd for fowl of price, - The bastard Phoenix; bird of Paradise; - And for no less than aromatic wine - Of maidens-blush, commix'd with jessamine. - Clean was the hearth, the mantle larded jet, - Which, wanting Lar and smoke, hung weeping wet; - At last i' th' noon of winter, did appear - A ragg'd soused neats-foot, with sick vinegar; - And in a burnish'd flagonet, stood by - Beer small as comfort, dead as charity. - At which amazed, and pond'ring on the food, - How cold it was, and how it chill'd my blood, - I curst the master, and I damn'd the souce, - And swore I'd got the ague of the house. - —Well, when to eat thou dost me next desire, - I'll bring a fever, since thou keep'st no fire. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0061" id="link2H_4_0061"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 57. TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Since to the country first I came, - I have lost my former flame; - And, methinks, I not inherit, - As I did, my ravish'd spirit. - If I write a verse or two, - 'Tis with very much ado; - In regard I want that wine - Which should conjure up a line. - Yet, though now of Muse bereft, - I have still the manners left - For to thank you, noble sir, - For those gifts you do confer - Upon him, who only can - Be in prose a grateful man. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0062" id="link2H_4_0062"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 58. A COUNTRY LIFE: TO HIS BROTHER, MR THOMAS HERRICK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Thrice, and above, blest, my soul's half, art thou, - In thy both last and better vow; - Could'st leave the city, for exchange, to see - The country's sweet simplicity; - And it to know and practise, with intent - To grow the sooner innocent; - By studying to know virtue, and to aim - More at her nature than her name; - The last is but the least; the first doth tell - Ways less to live, than to live well:— - And both are known to thee, who now canst live - Led by thy conscience, to give - Justice to soon-pleased nature, and to show - Wisdom and she together go, - And keep one centre; This with that conspires - To teach man to confine desires, - And know that riches have their proper stint - In the contented mind, not mint; - And canst instruct that those who have the itch - Of craving more, are never rich. - These things thou knows't to th' height, and dost prevent - That plague, because thou art content - With that Heaven gave thee with a wary hand, - (More blessed in thy brass than land) - To keep cheap Nature even and upright; - To cool, not cocker appetite. - Thus thou canst tersely live to satisfy - The belly chiefly, not the eye; - Keeping the barking stomach wisely quiet, - Less with a neat than needful diet. - But that which most makes sweet thy country life, - Is the fruition of a wife, - Whom, stars consenting with thy fate, thou hast - Got not so beautiful as chaste; - By whose warm side thou dost securely sleep, - While Love the sentinel doth keep, - With those deeds done by day, which ne'er affright - Thy silken slumbers in the night: - Nor has the darkness power to usher in - Fear to those sheets that know no sin. - The damask'd meadows and the pebbly streams - Sweeten and make soft your dreams: - The purling springs, groves, birds, and well weaved bowers, - With fields enamelled with flowers, - Present their shapes, while fantasy discloses - Millions of Lilies mix'd with Roses. - Then dream, ye hear the lamb by many a bleat - Woo'd to come suck the milky teat; - While Faunus in the vision comes, to keep - From rav'ning wolves the fleecy sheep: - With thousand such enchanting dreams, that meet - To make sleep not so sound as sweet; - Nor call these figures so thy rest endear, - As not to rise when Chanticlere - Warns the last watch;—but with the dawn dost rise - To work, but first to sacrifice; - Making thy peace with Heaven for some late fault, - With holy-meal and spirting salt; - Which done, thy painful thumb this sentence tells us, - 'Jove for our labour all things sells us.' - Nor are thy daily and devout affairs - Attended with those desp'rate cares - Th' industrious merchant has, who for to find - Gold, runneth to the Western Ind, - And back again, tortured with fears, doth fly, - Untaught to suffer Poverty;— - But thou at home, blest with securest ease, - Sitt'st, and believ'st that there be seas, - And watery dangers; while thy whiter hap - But sees these things within thy map; - And viewing them with a more safe survey, - Mak'st easy fear unto thee say, - 'A heart thrice walled with oak and brass, that man - Had, first durst plough the ocean.' - But thou at home, without or tide or gale, - Canst in thy map securely sail; - Seeing those painted countries, and so guess - By those fine shades, their substances; - And from thy compass taking small advice, - Buy'st travel at the lowest price. - Nor are thine ears so deaf but thou canst hear, - Far more with wonder than with fear, - Fame tell of states, of countries, courts, and kings, - And believe there be such things; - When of these truths thy happier knowledge lies - More in thine ears than in thine eyes. - And when thou hear'st by that too true report, - Vice rules the most, or all, at court, - Thy pious wishes are, though thou not there, - Virtue had, and moved her sphere. - But thou liv'st fearless; and thy face ne'er shows - Fortune when she comes, or goes; - But with thy equal thoughts, prepared dost stand - To take her by the either hand; - Nor car'st which comes the first, the foul or fair:— - A wise man ev'ry way lies square; - And like a surly oak with storms perplex'd - Grows still the stronger, strongly vex'd. - Be so, bold Spirit; stand centre-like, unmoved; - And be not only thought, but proved - To be what I report thee, and inure - Thyself, if want comes, to endure; - And so thou dost; for thy desires are - Confined to live with private Lar: - Nor curious whether appetite be fed - Or with the first, or second bread. - Who keep'st no proud mouth for delicious cates; - Hunger makes coarse meats, delicates. - Canst, and unurged, forsake that larded fare, - Which art, not nature, makes so rare; - To taste boil'd nettles, coleworts, beets, and eat - These, and sour herbs, as dainty meat:— - While soft opinion makes thy Genius say, - 'Content makes all ambrosia;' - Nor is it that thou keep'st this stricter size - So much for want, as exercise; - To numb the sense of dearth, which, should sin haste it, - Thou might'st but only see't, not taste it; - Yet can thy humble roof maintain a quire - Of singing crickets by thy fire; - And the brisk mouse may feast herself with crumbs, - Till that the green-eyed kitling comes; - Then to her cabin, blest she can escape - The sudden danger of a rape. - —And thus thy little well-kept stock doth prove, - Wealth cannot make a life, but love. - Nor art thou so close-handed, but canst spend, - (Counsel concurring with the end), - As well as spare; still conning o'er this theme, - To shun the first and last extreme; - Ordaining that thy small stock find no breach, - Or to exceed thy tether's reach; - But to live round, and close, and wisely true - To thine own self, and known to few. - Thus let thy rural sanctuary be - Elysium to thy wife and thee; - There to disport your selves with golden measure; - For seldom use commends the pleasure. - Live, and live blest; thrice happy pair; let breath, - But lost to one, be th' other's death: - And as there is one love, one faith, one troth, - Be so one death, one grave to both; - Till when, in such assurance live, ye may - Nor fear, or wish your dying day. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0063" id="link2H_4_0063"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 59. TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Since shed or cottage I have none, - I sing the more, that thou hast one; - To whose glad threshold, and free door - I may a Poet come, though poor; - And eat with thee a savoury bit, - Paying but common thanks for it. - —Yet should I chance, my Wicks, to see - An over-leaven look in thee, - To sour the bread, and turn the beer - To an exalted vinegar; - Or should'st thou prize me as a dish - Of thrice-boil'd worts, or third-day's fish, - I'd rather hungry go and come - Than to thy house be burdensome; - Yet, in my depth of grief, I'd be - One that should drop his beads for thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0064" id="link2H_4_0064"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 60. A PARANAETICALL, OR ADVISIVE VERSE TO HIS FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Is this a life, to break thy sleep, - To rise as soon as day doth peep? - To tire thy patient ox or ass - By noon, and let thy good days pass, - Not knowing this, that Jove decrees - Some mirth, t' adulce man's miseries? - —No; 'tis a life to have thine oil - Without extortion from thy soil; - Thy faithful fields to yield thee grain, - Although with some, yet little pain; - To have thy mind, and nuptial bed, - With fears and cares uncumbered - A pleasing wife, that by thy side - Lies softly panting like a bride; - —This is to live, and to endear - Those minutes Time has lent us here. - Then, while fates suffer, live thou free, - As is that air that circles thee; - And crown thy temples too; and let - Thy servant, not thy own self, sweat, - To strut thy barns with sheaves of wheat. - —Time steals away like to a stream, - And we glide hence away with them: - No sound recalls the hours once fled, - Or roses, being withered; - Nor us, my friend, when we are lost, - Like to a dew, or melted frost. - —Then live we mirthful while we should, - And turn the iron age to gold; - Let's feast and frolic, sing and play, - And thus less last, than live our day. - - Whose life with care is overcast, - That man's not said to live, but last; - Nor is't a life, seven years to tell, - But for to live that half seven well; - And that we'll do, as men who know, - Some few sands spent, we hence must go, - Both to be blended in the urn, - From whence there's never a return. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0065" id="link2H_4_0065"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 61. TO HIS HONOURED AND MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND MR CHARLES COTTON - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - For brave comportment, wit without offence, - Words fully flowing, yet of influence, - Thou art that man of men, the man alone - Worthy the public admiration; - Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write, - And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight; - Tell'st when a verse springs high; how understood - To be, or not, born of the royal blood - What state above, what symmetry below, - Lines have, or should have, thou the best can show:— - For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be, - Not so much known, as to be loved of thee:— - Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays - Be less another's laurel, than thy praise. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0066" id="link2H_4_0066"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 62. A NEW YEAR'S GIFT, SENT TO SIR SIMEON STEWARD - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - No news of navies burnt at seas; - No noise of late spawn'd tittyries; - No closet plot or open vent, - That frights men with a Parliament: - No new device or late-found trick, - To read by th' stars the kingdom's sick; - No gin to catch the State, or wring - The free-born nostril of the King, - We send to you; but here a jolly - Verse crown'd with ivy and with holly; - That tells of winter's tales and mirth - That milk-maids make about the hearth; - Of Christmas sports, the wassail-bowl, - That toss'd up, after Fox-i'-th'-hole; - Of Blind-man-buff, and of the care - That young men have to shoe the Mare; - Of twelf-tide cakes, of pease and beans, - Wherewith ye make those merry scenes, - Whenas ye chuse your king and queen, - And cry out, 'Hey for our town green!'— - Of ash-heaps, in the which ye use - Husbands and wives by streaks to chuse; - Of crackling laurel, which fore-sounds - A plenteous harvest to your grounds; - Of these, and such like things, for shift, - We send instead of New-year's gift. - —Read then, and when your faces shine - With buxom meat and cap'ring wine, - Remember us in cups full crown'd, - And let our city-health go round, - Quite through the young maids and the men, - To the ninth number, if not ten; - Until the fired chestnuts leap - For joy to see the fruits ye reap, - From the plump chalice and the cup - That tempts till it be tossed up.— - Then as ye sit about your embers, - Call not to mind those fled Decembers; - But think on these, that are t' appear, - As daughters to the instant year; - Sit crown'd with rose-buds, and carouse, - Till LIBER PATER twirls the house - About your ears, and lay upon - The year, your cares, that's fled and gone: - And let the russet swains the plough - And harrow hang up resting now; - And to the bag-pipe all address, - Till sleep takes place of weariness. - And thus throughout, with Christmas plays, - Frolic the full twelve holy-days. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0067" id="link2H_4_0067"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 63. AN ODE TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here we securely live, and eat - The cream of meat; - And keep eternal fires, - By which we sit, and do divine, - As wine - And rage inspires. - - If full, we charm; then call upon - Anacreon - To grace the frantic Thyrse: - And having drunk, we raise a shout - Throughout, - To praise his verse. - - Then cause we Horace to be read, - Which sung or said, - A goblet, to the brim, - Of lyric wine, both swell'd and crown'd, - Around - We quaff to him. - - Thus, thus we live, and spend the hours - In wine and flowers; - And make the frolic year, - The month, the week, the instant day - To stay - The longer here. - - —Come then, brave Knight, and see the cell - Wherein I dwell; - And my enchantments too; - Which love and noble freedom is:— - And this - Shall fetter you. - - Take horse, and come; or be so kind - To send your mind, - Though but in numbers few:— - And I shall think I have the heart - Or part - Of Clipsby Crew. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0068" id="link2H_4_0068"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 64. A PANEGYRIC TO SIR LEWIS PEMBERTON - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Till I shall come again, let this suffice, - I send my salt, my sacrifice - To thee, thy lady, younglings, and as far - As to thy Genius and thy Lar; - To the worn threshold, porch, hall, parlour, kitchen, - The fat-fed smoking temple, which in - The wholesome savour of thy mighty chines, - Invites to supper him who dines: - Where laden spits, warp'd with large ribs of beef, - Not represent, but give relief - To the lank stranger and the sour swain, - Where both may feed and come again; - For no black-bearded Vigil from thy door - Beats with a button'd-staff the poor; - But from thy warm love-hatching gates, each may - Take friendly morsels, and there stay - To sun his thin-clad members, if he likes; - For thou no porter keep'st who strikes. - No comer to thy roof his guest-rite wants; - Or, staying there, is scourged with taunts - Of some rough groom, who, yirk'd with corns, says, 'Sir, - 'You've dipp'd too long i' th' vinegar; - 'And with our broth and bread and bits, Sir friend, - 'You've fared well; pray make an end; - 'Two days you've larded here; a third, ye know, - 'Makes guests and fish smell strong; pray go - 'You to some other chimney, and there take - 'Essay of other giblets; make - 'Merry at another's hearth; you're here - 'Welcome as thunder to our beer; - 'Manners knows distance, and a man unrude - 'Would soon recoil, and not intrude - 'His stomach to a second meal.'—No, no, - Thy house, well fed and taught, can show - No such crabb'd vizard: Thou hast learnt thy train - With heart and hand to entertain; - And by the arms-full, with a breast unhid, - As the old race of mankind did, - When either's heart, and either's hand did strive - To be the nearer relative; - Thou dost redeem those times: and what was lost - Of ancient honesty, may boast - It keeps a growth in thee, and so will run - A course in thy fame's pledge, thy son. - Thus, like a Roman Tribune, thou thy gate - Early sets ope to feast, and late; - Keeping no currish waiter to affright, - With blasting eye, the appetite, - Which fain would waste upon thy cates, but that - The trencher creature marketh what - Best and more suppling piece he cuts, and by - Some private pinch tells dangers nigh, - A hand too desp'rate, or a knife that bites - Skin-deep into the pork, or lights - Upon some part of kid, as if mistook, - When checked by the butler's look. - No, no, thy bread, thy wine, thy jocund beer - Is not reserved for Trebius here, - But all who at thy table seated are, - Find equal freedom, equal fare; - And thou, like to that hospitable god, - Jove, joy'st when guests make their abode - To eat thy bullocks thighs, thy veals, thy fat - Wethers, and never grudged at. - The pheasant, partridge, gotwit, reeve, ruff, rail, - The cock, the curlew, and the quail, - These, and thy choicest viands, do extend - Their tastes unto the lower end - Of thy glad table; not a dish more known - To thee, than unto any one: - But as thy meat, so thy immortal wine - Makes the smirk face of each to shine, - And spring fresh rose-buds, while the salt, the wit, - Flows from the wine, and graces it; - While Reverence, waiting at the bashful board, - Honours my lady and my lord. - No scurril jest, no open scene is laid - Here, for to make the face afraid; - But temp'rate mirth dealt forth, and so discreet- - Ly, that it makes the meat more sweet, - And adds perfumes unto the wine, which thou - Dost rather pour forth, than allow - By cruse and measure; thus devoting wine, - As the Canary isles were thine; - But with that wisdom and that method, as - No one that's there his guilty glass - Drinks of distemper, or has cause to cry - Repentance to his liberty. - No, thou know'st orders, ethics, and hast read - All oeconomics, know'st to lead - A house-dance neatly, and canst truly show - How far a figure ought to go, - Forward or backward, side-ward, and what pace - Can give, and what retract a grace; - What gesture, courtship, comeliness agrees, - With those thy primitive decrees, - To give subsistence to thy house, and proof - What Genii support thy roof, - Goodness and greatness, not the oaken piles; - For these, and marbles have their whiles - To last, but not their ever; virtue's hand - It is which builds 'gainst fate to stand. - Such is thy house, whose firm foundations trust - Is more in thee than in her dust, - Or depth; these last may yield, and yearly shrink, - When what is strongly built, no chink - Or yawning rupture can the same devour, - But fix'd it stands, by her own power - And well-laid bottom, on the iron and rock, - Which tries, and counter-stands the shock - And ram of time, and by vexation grows - The stronger. Virtue dies when foes - Are wanting to her exercise, but, great - And large she spreads by dust and sweat. - Safe stand thy walls, and thee, and so both will, - Since neither's height was raised by th'ill - Of others; since no stud, no stone, no piece - Was rear'd up by the poor-man's fleece; - No widow's tenement was rack'd to gild - Or fret thy cieling, or to build - A sweating-closet, to anoint the silk- - Soft skin, or bath[e] in asses' milk; - No orphan's pittance, left him, served to set - The pillars up of lasting jet, - For which their cries might beat against thine ears, - Or in the damp jet read their tears. - No plank from hallow'd altar does appeal - To yond' Star-chamber, or does seal - A curse to thee, or thine; but all things even - Make for thy peace, and pace to heaven. - —Go on directly so, as just men may - A thousand times more swear, than say - This is that princely Pemberton, who can - Teach men to keep a God in man; - And when wise poets shall search out to see - Good men, they find them all in thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0069" id="link2H_4_0069"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 65. ALL THINGS DECAY AND DIE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - All things decay with time: The forest sees - The growth and down-fall of her aged trees; - That timber tall, which three-score lustres stood - The proud dictator of the state-like wood, - I mean the sovereign of all plants, the oak, - Droops, dies, and falls without the cleaver's stroke. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0070" id="link2H_4_0070"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 66. TO HIS DYING BROTHER, MASTER WILLIAM HERRICK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight, - But stay the time till we have bade good-night. - Thou hast both wind and tide with thee; thy way - As soon dispatch'd is by the night as day. - Let us not then so rudely henceforth go - Till we have wept, kiss'd, sigh'd, shook hands, or so. - There's pain in parting, and a kind of hell - When once true lovers take their last farewell. - What? shall we two our endless leaves take here - Without a sad look, or a solemn tear? - He knows not love that hath not this truth proved, - Love is most loth to leave the thing beloved. - Pay we our vows and go; yet when we part, - Then, even then, I will bequeath my heart - Into thy loving hands; for I'll keep none - To warm my breast, when thou, my pulse, art gone, - No, here I'll last, and walk, a harmless shade, - About this urn, wherein thy dust is laid, - To guard it so, as nothing here shall be - Heavy, to hurt those sacred seeds of thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0071" id="link2H_4_0071"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 67. HIS AGE: - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - DEDICATED TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, - MR JOHN WICKES, UNDER THE NAME OF - POSTUMUS - - Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly - And leave no sound: nor piety, - Or prayers, or vow - Can keep the wrinkle from the brow; - But we must on, - As fate does lead or draw us; none, - None, Posthumus, could e'er decline - The doom of cruel Proserpine. - - The pleasing wife, the house, the ground - Must all be left, no one plant found - To follow thee, - Save only the curst cypress-tree! - —A merry mind - Looks forward, scorns what's left behind; - Let's live, my Wickes, then, while we may, - And here enjoy our holiday. - - We've seen the past best times, and these - Will ne'er return; we see the seas, - And moons to wane, - But they fill up their ebbs again; - But vanish'd man, - Like to a lily lost, ne'er can, - Ne'er can repullulate, or bring - His days to see a second spring. - - But on we must, and thither tend, - Where Ancus and rich Tullus blend - Their sacred seed; - Thus has infernal Jove decreed; - We must be made, - Ere long a song, ere long a shade. - Why then, since life to us is short, - Let's make it full up by our sport. - - Crown we our heads with roses then, - And 'noint with Tyrian balm; for when - We two are dead, - The world with us is buried. - Then live we free - As is the air, and let us be - Our own fair wind, and mark each one - Day with the white and lucky stone. - - We are not poor, although we have - No roofs of cedar, nor our brave - Baiae, nor keep - Account of such a flock of sheep; - Nor bullocks fed - To lard the shambles; barbels bred - To kiss our hands; nor do we wish - For Pollio's lampreys in our dish. - - If we can meet, and so confer, - Both by a shining salt-cellar, - And have our roof, - Although not arch'd, yet weather-proof, - And cieling free, - From that cheap candle-baudery; - We'll eat our bean with that full mirth - As we were lords of all the earth. - - Well, then, on what seas we are tost, - Our comfort is, we can't be lost. - Let the winds drive - Our bark, yet she will keep alive - Amidst the deeps; - 'Tis constancy, my Wickes, which keeps - The pinnace up; which, though she errs - I' th' seas, she saves her passengers. - - Say, we must part; sweet mercy bless - Us both i' th' sea, camp, wilderness! - Can we so far - Stray, to become less circular - Than we are now? - No, no, that self-same heart, that vow - Which made us one, shall ne'er undo, - Or ravel so, to make us two. - - Live in thy peace; as for myself, - When I am bruised on the shelf - Of time, and show - My locks behung with frost and snow; - When with the rheum, - The cough, the pthisic, I consume - Unto an almost nothing; then, - The ages fled, I'll call again, - - And with a tear compare these last - Lame and bad times with those are past, - While Baucis by, - My old lean wife, shall kiss it dry; - And so we'll sit - By th' fire, foretelling snow and slit - And weather by our aches, grown - Now old enough to be our own - - True calendars, as puss's ear - Wash'd o'er 's, to tell what change is near; - Then to assuage - The gripings of the chine by age, - I'll call my young - Iulus to sing such a song - I made upon my Julia's breast, - And of her blush at such a feast. - - Then shall he read that flower of mine - Enclosed within a crystal shrine; - A primrose next; - A piece then of a higher text; - For to beget - In me a more transcendant heat, - Than that insinuating fire - Which crept into each aged sire - - When the fair Helen from her eyes - Shot forth her loving sorceries; - At which I'll rear - Mine aged limbs above my chair; - And hearing it, - Flutter and crow, as in a fit - Of fresh concupiscence, and cry, - 'No lust there's like to Poetry.' - - Thus frantic, crazy man, God wot, - I'll call to mind things half-forgot; - And oft between - Repeat the times that I have seen; - Thus ripe with tears, - And twisting my Iulus' hairs, - Doting, I'll weep and say, 'In truth, - Baucis, these were my sins of youth.' - - Then next I'Il cause my hopeful lad, - If a wild apple can be had, - To crown the hearth; - Lar thus conspiring with our mirth; - Then to infuse - Our browner ale into the cruse; - Which, sweetly spiced, we'll first carouse - Unto the Genius of the house. - - Then the next health to friends of mine. - Loving the brave Burgundian wine, - High sons of pith, - Whose fortunes I have frolick'd with; - Such as could well - Bear up the magic bough and spell; - And dancing 'bout the mystic Thyrse, - Give up the just applause to verse; - - To those, and then again to thee, - We'll drink, my Wickes, until we be - Plump as the cherry, - Though not so fresh, yet full as merry - As the cricket, - The untamed heifer, or the pricket, - Until our tongues shall tell our ears, - We're younger by a score of years. - - Thus, till we see the fire less shine - From th' embers than the kitling's eyne, - We'll still sit up, - Sphering about the wassail cup, - To all those times - Which gave me honour for my rhymes; - The coal once spent, we'll then to bed, - Far more than night bewearied. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0072" id="link2H_4_0072"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 68. THE BAD SEASON MAKES THE POET SAD - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Dull to myself, and almost dead to these, - My many fresh and fragrant mistresses; - Lost to all music now, since every thing - Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing. - Sick is the land to th' heart; and doth endure - More dangerous faintings by her desperate cure. - But if that golden age would come again, - And Charles here rule, as he before did reign; - If smooth and unperplex'd the seasons were, - As when the sweet Maria lived here; - I should delight to have my curls half drown'd - In Tyrian dews, and head with roses crown'd: - And once more yet, ere I am laid out dead, - Knock at a star with my exalted head. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0073" id="link2H_4_0073"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 69. ON HIMSELF - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - A wearied pilgrim I have wander'd here, - Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year; - Long I have lasted in this world; 'tis true - But yet those years that I have lived, but few. - Who by his gray hairs doth his lustres tell, - Lives not those years, but he that lives them well: - One man has reach'd his sixty years, but he - Of all those three-score has not lived half three: - He lives who lives to virtue; men who cast - Their ends for pleasure, do not live, but last. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0074" id="link2H_4_0074"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 70. HIS WINDING-SHEET - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Come thou, who art the wine and wit - Of all I've writ; - The grace, the glory, and the best - Piece of the rest; - Thou art of what I did intend - The All, and End; - And what was made, was made to meet. - Thee, thee my sheet. - Come then, and be to my chaste side - Both bed and bride. - We two, as reliques left, will have - One rest, one grave; - And, hugging close, we need not fear - Lust entering here, - Where all desires are dead or cold, - As is the mould; - And all affections are forgot, - Or trouble not. - Here, here the slaves and prisoners be - From shackles free; - And weeping widows, long opprest, - Do here find rest. - The wronged client ends his laws - Here, and his cause; - Here those long suits of Chancery lie - Quiet, or die; - And all Star-chamber bills do cease, - Or hold their peace. - Here needs no court for our Request - Where all are best; - All wise, all equal, and all just - Alike i'th' dust. - Nor need we here to fear the frown - Of court or crown; - Where fortune bears no sway o'er things, - There all are kings. - In this securer place we'll keep, - As lull'd asleep; - Or for a little time we'll lie, - As robes laid by, - To be another day re-worn, - Turn'd, but not torn; - Or like old testaments engrost, - Lock'd up, not lost; - And for a-while lie here conceal'd, - To be reveal'd - Next, at that great Platonic year, - And then meet here. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0075" id="link2H_4_0075"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 71. ANACREONTIC - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Born I was to be old, - And for to die here; - After that, in the mould - Long for to lie here. - But before that day comes, - Still I be bousing; - For I know, in the tombs - There's no carousing. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0076" id="link2H_4_0076"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 72. TO LAURELS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - A funeral stone - Or verse, I covet none; - But only crave - Of you that I may have - A sacred laurel springing from my grave: - Which being seen - Blest with perpetual green, - May grow to be - Not so much call'd a tree, - As the eternal monument of me. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0077" id="link2H_4_0077"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 73. ON HIMSELF - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light; - And weep for me, lost in an endless night; - Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me, - Who writ for many. BENEDICTE. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0078" id="link2H_4_0078"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 74. ON HIMSELF - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Lost to the world; lost to myself; alone - Here now I rest under this marble stone, - In depth of silence, heard and seen of none. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0079" id="link2H_4_0079"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 75. TO ROBIN RED-BREAST - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be - With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; - And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, - Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister! - For epitaph, in foliage, next write this: - HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0080" id="link2H_4_0080"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 76. THE OLIVE BRANCH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sadly I walk'd within the field, - To see what comfort it would yield; - And as I went my private way, - An olive-branch before me lay; - And seeing it, I made a stay, - And took it up, and view'd it; then - Kissing the omen, said Amen; - Be, be it so, and let this be - A divination unto me; - That in short time my woes shall cease, - And love shall crown my end with peace. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0081" id="link2H_4_0081"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 77. THE PLAUDITE, OR END OF LIFE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - If after rude and boisterous seas - My wearied pinnace here finds ease; - If so it be I've gain'd the shore, - With safety of a faithful oar; - If having run my barque on ground, - Ye see the aged vessel crown'd; - What's to be done? but on the sands - Ye dance and sing, and now clap hands. - —The first act's doubtful, but (we say) - It is the last commends the Play. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0082" id="link2H_4_0082"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 78. TO GROVES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Ye silent shades, whose each tree here - Some relique of a saint doth wear; - Who for some sweet-heart's sake, did prove - The fire and martyrdom of Love:— - Here is the legend of those saints - That died for love, and their complaints; - Their wounded hearts, and names we find - Encarved upon the leaves and rind. - Give way, give way to me, who come - Scorch'd with the self-same martyrdom! - And have deserved as much, Love knows, - As to be canonized 'mongst those - Whose deeds and deaths here written are - Within your Greeny-kalendar. - —By all those virgins' fillets hung - Upon! your boughs, and requiems sung - For saints and souls departed hence, - Here honour'd still with frankincense; - By all those tears that have been shed, - As a drink-offering to the dead; - By all those true-love knots, that be - With mottoes carved on every tree; - By sweet Saint Phillis! pity me; - By dear Saint Iphis! and the rest - Of all those other saints now blest, - Me, me forsaken,—here admit - Among your myrtles to be writ; - That my poor name may have the glory - To live remember'd in your story. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0083" id="link2H_4_0083"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - AMORES - </h2> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0084" id="link2H_4_0084"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 79. MRS ELIZ: WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF THE LOST SHEPHERDESS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Among the myrtles as I walk'd - Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd: - Tell me, said I, in deep distress, - Where I may find my Shepherdess? - —Thou fool, said Love, know'st thou not this? - In every thing that's sweet she is. - In yond' carnation go and seek, - There thou shalt find her lip and cheek; - In that enamell'd pansy by, - There thou shalt have her curious eye; - In bloom of peach and rose's bud, - There waves the streamer of her blood. - —'Tis true, said I; and thereupon - I went to pluck them one by one, - To make of parts an union; - But on a sudden all were gone. - At which I stopp'd; Said Love, these be - The true resemblances of thee; - For as these flowers, thy joys must die; - And in the turning of an eye; - And all thy hopes of her must wither, - Like those short sweets here knit together. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0085" id="link2H_4_0085"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 80. A VOW TO VENUS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Happily I had a sight - Of my dearest dear last night; - Make her this day smile on me, - And I'll roses give to thee! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0086" id="link2H_4_0086"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 81. UPON LOVE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - A crystal vial Cupid brought, - Which had a juice in it: - Of which who drank, he said, no thought - Of Love he should admit. - - I, greedy of the prize, did drink, - And emptied soon the glass; - Which burnt me so, that I do think - The fire of hell it was. - - Give me my earthen cups again, - The crystal I contemn, - Which, though enchased with pearls, contain - A deadly draught in them. - - And thou, O Cupid! come not to - My threshold,—since I see, - For all I have, or else can do, - Thou still wilt cozen me. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0087" id="link2H_4_0087"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 82. UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Whenas in silks my Julia goes, - Till, then, methinks, how sweetly flows - That liquefaction of her clothes! - Next, when I cast mine eyes, and see - That brave vibration each way free; - O how that glittering taketh me! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0088" id="link2H_4_0088"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 83. THE BRACELET TO JULIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Why I tie about thy wrist, - Julia, this my silken twist? - For what other reason is't, - But to shew thee how in part - Thou my pretty captive art? - But thy bond-slave is my heart; - 'Tis but silk that bindeth thee, - Knap the thread and thou art free; - But 'tis otherwise with me; - I am bound, and fast bound so, - That from thee I cannot go; - If I could, I would not so. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0089" id="link2H_4_0089"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 84. UPON JULIA'S RIBBON - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - As shews the air when with a rain-bow graced, - So smiles that ribbon 'bout my Julia's waist; - Or like——Nay, 'tis that Zonulet of love, - Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0090" id="link2H_4_0090"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 85. TO JULIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - How rich and pleasing thou, my Julia, art, - In each thy dainty and peculiar part! - First, for thy Queen-ship on thy head is set - Of flowers a sweet commingled coronet; - About thy neck a carkanet is bound, - Made of the Ruby, Pearl, and Diamond; - A golden ring, that shines upon thy thumb; - About thy wrist the rich Dardanium; - Between thy breasts, than down of swans more white, - There plays the Sapphire with the Chrysolite. - No part besides must of thyself be known, - But by the Topaz, Opal, Calcedon. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0091" id="link2H_4_0091"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 86. ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When I behold a forest spread - With silken trees upon thy head; - And when I see that other dress - Of flowers set in comeliness; - When I behold another grace - In the ascent of curious lace, - Which, like a pinnacle, doth shew - The top, and the top-gallant too; - Then, when I see thy tresses bound - Into an oval, square, or round, - And knit in knots far more than I. - Can tell by tongue, or True-love tie; - Next, when those lawny films I see - Play with a wild civility; - And all those airy silks to flow, - Alluring me, and tempting so— - I must confess, mine eye and heart - Dotes less on nature than on art. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0092" id="link2H_4_0092"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 87. HER BED - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - See'st thou that cloud as silver clear, - Plump, soft, and swelling every where? - 'Tis Julia's bed, and she sleeps there. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0093" id="link2H_4_0093"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 88. THE ROCK OF RUBIES, AND THE QUARRY OF PEARLS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Some ask'd me where the Rubies grew: - And nothing I did say, - But with my finger pointed to - The lips of Julia. - Some ask'd how Pearls did grow, and where: - Then spoke I to my girl, - To part her lips, and shew me there - The quarrelets of Pearl. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0094" id="link2H_4_0094"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 89. THE PARLIAMENT OF ROSES TO JULIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I dreamt the Roses one time went - To meet and sit in Parliament; - The place for these, and for the rest - Of flowers, was thy spotless breast. - Over the which a state was drawn - Of tiffany, or cob-web lawn; - Then in that Parly all those powers - Voted the Rose the Queen of flowers; - But so, as that herself should be - The Maid of Honour unto thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0095" id="link2H_4_0095"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 90. UPON JULIA'S RECOVERY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Droop, droop no more, or hang the head, - Ye roses almost withered; - Now strength, and newer purple get, - Each here declining violet. - O primroses! let this day be - A resurrection unto ye; - And to all flowers allied in blood, - Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood. - For health on Julia's cheek hath shed - Claret and cream commingled; - And those, her lips, do now appear - As beams of coral, but more clear. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0096" id="link2H_4_0096"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 91. UPON JULIA'S HAIR FILLED WITH DEW - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Dew sate on Julia's hair, - And spangled too, - Like leaves that laden are - With trembling dew; - Or glitter'd to my sight, - As when the beams - Have their reflected light - Danced by the streams. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0097" id="link2H_4_0097"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 92. CHERRY RIPE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, - Full and fair ones; come, and buy: - If so be you ask me where - They do grow? I answer, there - Where my Julia's lips do smile;— - There's the land, or cherry-isle; - Whose plantations fully show - All the year where cherries grow. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0098" id="link2H_4_0098"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 93. THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - As Julia once a-slumb'ring lay, - It chanced a bee did fly that way, - After a dew, or dew-like shower, - To tipple freely in a flower; - For some rich flower, he took the lip - Of Julia, and began to sip; - But when he felt he suck'd from thence - Honey, and in the quintessence, - He drank so much he scarce could stir; - So Julia took the pilferer. - And thus surprised, as filchers use, - He thus began himself t'excuse: - 'Sweet lady-flower, I never brought - Hither the least one thieving thought; - But taking those rare lips of yours - For some fresh, fragrant, luscious flowers, - I thought I might there take a taste, - Where so much sirup ran at waste. - Besides, know this, I never sting - The flower that gives me nourishing; - But with a kiss, or thanks, do pay - For honey that I bear away.' - —This said, he laid his little scrip - Of honey 'fore her ladyship, - And told her, as some tears did fall, - That, that he took, and that was all. - At which she smiled, and bade him go - And take his bag; but thus much know, - When next he came a-pilfering so, - He should from her full lips derive - Honey enough to fill his hive. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0099" id="link2H_4_0099"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 94. UPON ROSES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Under a lawn, than skies more clear, - Some ruffled Roses nestling were, - And snugging there, they seem'd to lie - As in a flowery nunnery; - They blush'd, and look'd more fresh than flowers - Quickened of late by pearly showers; - And all, because they were possest - But of the heat of Julia's breast, - Which, as a warm and moisten'd spring, - Gave them their ever-flourishing. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0100" id="link2H_4_0100"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 95. HOW HIS SOUL CAME ENSNARED - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - My soul would one day go and seek - For roses, and in Julia's cheek - A richess of those sweets she found, - As in another Rosamond; - But gathering roses as she was, - Not knowing what would come to pass, - it chanced a ringlet of her hair - Caught my poor soul, as in a snare; - Which ever since has been in thrall; - —Yet freedom she enjoys withal. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0101" id="link2H_4_0101"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 96. UPON JULIA'S VOICE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When I thy singing next shall hear, - I'll wish I might turn all to ear, - To drink-in notes and numbers, such - As blessed souls can't hear too much - Then melted down, there let me lie - Entranced, and lost confusedly; - And by thy music strucken mute, - Die, and be turn'd into a Lute. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0102" id="link2H_4_0102"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 97. THE NIGHT PIECE: TO JULIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, - The shooting stars attend thee; - And the elves also, - Whose little eyes glow - Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. - - No Will-o'th'-Wisp mis-light thee, - Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee; - But on, on thy way, - Not making a stay, - Since ghost there's none to affright thee. - - Let not the dark thee cumber; - What though the moon does slumber? - The stars of the night - Will lend thee their light, - Like tapers clear, without number. - - Then, Julia, let me woo thee, - Thus, thus to come unto me; - And when I shall meet - Thy silvery feet, - My soul I'll pour into thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0103" id="link2H_4_0103"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 98. HIS COVENANT OR PROTESTATION TO JULIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Why dost thou wound and break my heart, - As if we should for ever part? - Hast thou not heard an oath from me, - After a day, or two, or three, - I would come back and live with thee? - Take, if thou dost distrust that vow, - This second protestation now:— - Upon thy cheek that spangled tear, - Which sits as dew of roses there, - That tear shall scarce be dried before - I'll kiss the threshold of thy door; - Then weep not, Sweet, but thus much know,— - I'm half returned before I go. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0104" id="link2H_4_0104"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 99. HIS SAILING FROM JULIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When that day comes, whose evening says I'm gone - Unto that watery desolation; - Devoutly to thy Closet-gods then pray, - That my wing'd ship may meet no Remora. - Those deities which circum-walk the seas, - And look upon our dreadful passages, - Will from all dangers re-deliver me, - For one drink-offering poured out by thee, - Mercy and Truth live with thee! and forbear, - In my short absence, to unsluice a tear; - But yet for love's-sake, let thy lips do this,— - Give my dead picture one engendering kiss; - Work that to life, and let me ever dwell - In thy remembrance, Julia. So farewell. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0105" id="link2H_4_0105"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 100. HIS LAST REQUEST TO JULIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I have been wanton, and too bold, I fear, - To chafe o'er-much the virgin's cheek or ear;— - Beg for my pardon, Julia! he doth win - Grace with the gods who's sorry for his sin. - That done, my Julia, dearest Julia, come, - And go with me to chuse my burial room: - My fates are ended; when thy Herrick dies, - Clasp thou his book, then close thou up his eyes. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0106" id="link2H_4_0106"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 101. THE TRANSFIGURATION - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Immortal clothing I put on - So soon as, Julia, I am gone - To mine eternal mansion. - - Thou, thou art here, to human sight - Clothed all with incorrupted light; - —But yet how more admir'dly bright - - Wilt thou appear, when thou art set - In thy refulgent thronelet, - That shin'st thus in thy counterfeit! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0107" id="link2H_4_0107"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 102. LOVE DISLIKES NOTHING - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Whatsoever thing I see, - Rich or poor although it be, - —'Tis a mistress unto me. - - Be my girl or fair or brown, - Does she smile, or does she frown; - Still I write a sweet-heart down. - - Be she rough, or smooth of skin; - When I touch, I then begin - For to let affection in. - - Be she bald, or does she wear - Locks incurl'd of other hair; - I shall find enchantment there. - - Be she whole, or be she rent, - So my fancy be content, - She's to me most excellent. - - Be she fat, or be she lean; - Be she sluttish, be she clean; - I'm a man for every scene. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0108" id="link2H_4_0108"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 103. UPON LOVE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I held Love's head while it did ache; - But so it chanced to be, - The cruel pain did his forsake, - And forthwith came to me. - - Ai me! how shall my grief be still'd? - Or where else shall we find - One like to me, who must be kill'd - For being too-too-kind? -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0109" id="link2H_4_0109"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 104. TO DIANEME - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I could but see thee yesterday - Stung by a fretful bee; - And I the javelin suck'd away, - And heal'd the wound in thee. - - A thousand thorns, and briars, and stings - I have in my poor breast; - Yet ne'er can see that salve which brings - My passions any rest. - - As Love shall help me, I admire - How thou canst sit and smile - To see me bleed, and not desire - To staunch the blood the while. - - If thou, composed of gentle mould, - Art so unkind to me; - What dismal stories will be told - Of those that cruel be! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0110" id="link2H_4_0110"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 105. TO PERENNA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When I thy parts run o'er, I can't espy - In any one, the least indecency; - But every line and limb diffused thence - A fair and unfamiliar excellence; - So that the more I look, the more I prove - There's still more cause why I the more should love. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0111" id="link2H_4_0111"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 106. TO OENONE. - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - What conscience, say, is it in thee, - When I a heart had one, [won] - To take away that heart from me, - And to retain thy own? - - For shame or pity, now incline - To play a loving part; - Either to send me kindly thine, - Or give me back my heart. - - Covet not both; but if thou dost - Resolve to part with neither; - Why! yet to shew that thou art just, - Take me and mine together. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0112" id="link2H_4_0112"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 107. TO ELECTRA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I dare not ask a kiss, - I dare not beg a smile; - Lest having that, or this, - I might grow proud the while. - - No, no, the utmost share - Of my desire shall be, - Only to kiss that air - That lately kissed thee, -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0113" id="link2H_4_0113"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 108. TO ANTHEA, WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANY THING - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Bid me to live, and I will live - Thy Protestant to be; - Or bid me love, and I will give - A loving heart to thee. - - A heart as soft, a heart as kind, - A heart as sound and free - As in the whole world thou canst find, - That heart I'll give to thee. - - Bid that heart stay, and it will stay - To honour thy decree; - Or bid it languish quite away, - And't shall do so for thee. - - Bid me to weep, and I will weep, - While I have eyes to see; - And having none, yet I will keep - A heart to weep for thee. - - Bid me despair, and I'll despair, - Under that cypress tree; - Or bid me die, and I will dare - E'en death, to die for thee. - - —Thou art my life, my love, my heart, - The very eyes of me; - And hast command of every part, - To live and die for thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0114" id="link2H_4_0114"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 109. ANTHEA'S RETRACTATION - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Anthea laugh'd, and, fearing lest excess - Might stretch the cords of civil comeliness - She with a dainty blush rebuked her face, - And call'd each line back to his rule and space. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0115" id="link2H_4_0115"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 110. LOVE LIGHTLY PLEASED - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Let fair or foul my mistress be, - Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me; - Or let her walk, or stand, or sit, - The posture her's, I'm pleased with it; - Or let her tongue be still, or stir - Graceful is every thing from her; - Or let her grant, or else deny, - My love will fit each history. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0116" id="link2H_4_0116"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 111. TO DIANEME - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Give me one kiss, - And no more: - If so be, this - Makes you poor - To enrich you, - I'll restore - For that one, two- - Thousand score. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0117" id="link2H_4_0117"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 112. UPON HER EYES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Clear are her eyes, - Like purest skies; - Discovering from thence - A baby there - That turns each sphere, - Like an Intelligence. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0118" id="link2H_4_0118"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 113. UPON HER FEET - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Her pretty feet - Like snails did creep - A little out, and then, - As if they played at Bo-peep, - Did soon draw in again. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0119" id="link2H_4_0119"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 114. UPON A DELAYING LADY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Come, come away - Or let me go; - Must I here stay - Because you're slow, - And will continue so; - —Troth, lady, no. - - I scorn to be - A slave to state; - And since I'm free, - I will not wait, - Henceforth at such a rate, - For needy fate. - - If you desire - My spark should glow, - The peeping fire - You must blow; - Or I shall quickly grow - To frost, or snow. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0120" id="link2H_4_0120"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 115. THE CRUEL MAID - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - —AND, cruel maid, because I see - You scornful of my love, and me, - I'll trouble you no more, but go - My way, where you shall never know - What is become of me; there I - Will find me out a path to die, - Or learn some way how to forget - You and your name for ever;—yet - Ere I go hence, know this from me, - What will in time your fortune be; - This to your coyness I will tell; - And having spoke it once, Farewell. - —The lily will not long endure, - Nor the snow continue pure; - The rose, the violet, one day - See both these lady-flowers decay; - And you must fade as well as they. - And it may chance that love may turn, - And, like to mine, make your heart burn - And weep to see't; yet this thing do, - That my last vow commends to you; - When you shall see that I am dead, - For pity let a tear be shed; - And, with your mantle o'er me cast, - Give my cold lips a kiss at last; - If twice you kiss, you need not fear - That I shall stir or live more here. - Next hollow out a tomb to cover - Me, me, the most despised lover; - And write thereon, THIS, READER, KNOW; - LOVE KILL'D THIS MAN. No more, but so. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0121" id="link2H_4_0121"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 116. TO HIS MISTRESS, OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER TOYING OR TALKING - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - You say I love not, 'cause I do not play - Still with your curls, and kiss the time away. - You blame me, too, because I can't devise - Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes; - By Love's religion, I must here confess it, - The most I love, when I the least express it. - Shall griefs find tongues; full casks are ever found - To give, if any, yet but little sound. - Deep waters noiseless are; and this we know, - That chiding streams betray small depth below. - So when love speechless is, she doth express - A depth in love, and that depth bottomless. - Now, since my love is tongueless, know me such, - Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0122" id="link2H_4_0122"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 117. IMPOSSIBILITIES: TO HIS FRIEND - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - My faithful friend, if you can see - The fruit to grow up, or the tree; - If you can see the colour come - Into the blushing pear or plum; - If you can see the water grow - To cakes of ice, or flakes of snow; - If you can see that drop of rain - Lost in the wild sea once again; - If you can see how dreams do creep - Into the brain by easy sleep:— - —Then there is hope that you may see - Her love me once, who now hates me. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0123" id="link2H_4_0123"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 118. THE BUBBLE: A SONG - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - To my revenge, and to her desperate fears, - Fly, thou made bubble of my sighs and tears! - In the wild air, when thou hast roll'd about, - And, like a blasting planet, found her out; - Stoop, mount, pass by to take her eye—then glare - Like to a dreadful comet in the air: - Next, when thou dost perceive her fixed sight - For thy revenge to be most opposite, - Then, like a globe, or ball of wild-fire, fly, - And break thyself in shivers on her eye! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0124" id="link2H_4_0124"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 119. DELIGHT IN DISORDER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - A sweet disorder in the dress - Kindles in clothes a wantonness; - A lawn about the shoulders thrown - Into a fine distraction; - An erring lace, which here and there - Enthrals the crimson stomacher; - A cuff neglectful, and thereby - Ribbons to flow confusedly; - A winning wave, deserving note, - In the tempestuous petticoat; - A careless shoe-string, in whose tie - I see a wild civility;— - Do more bewitch me, than when art - Is too precise in every part. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0125" id="link2H_4_0125"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 120. TO SILVIA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Pardon my trespass, Silvia! I confess - My kiss out-went the bounds of shamefacedness:— - None is discreet at all times; no, not Jove - Himself, at one time, can be wise and love. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0126" id="link2H_4_0126"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 121. TO SILVIA TO WED - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed; - And loving lie in one devoted bed. - Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post haste; - No sound calls back the year that once is past. - Then, sweetest Silvia, let's no longer stay; - True love, we know, precipitates delay. - Away with doubts, all scruples hence remove! - No man, at one time, can be wise, and love. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0127" id="link2H_4_0127"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 122. BARLEY-BREAK; OR, LAST IN HELL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - We two are last in hell; what may we fear - To be tormented or kept pris'ners here I - Alas! if kissing be of plagues the worst, - We'll wish in hell we had been last and first. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0128" id="link2H_4_0128"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 123. ON A PERFUMED LADY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - You say you're sweet: how should we know - Whether that you be sweet or no? - —From powders and perfumes keep free; - Then we shall smell how sweet you be! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0129" id="link2H_4_0129"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 124. THE PARCAE; OR, THREE DAINTY DESTINIES: THE ARMILET - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Three lovely sisters working were, - As they were closely set, - Of soft and dainty maiden-hair, - A curious Armilet. - I, smiling, ask'd them what they did, - Fair Destinies all three? - Who told me they had drawn a thread - Of life, and 'twas for me. - They shew'd me then how fine 'twas spun - And I replied thereto; - 'I care not now how soon 'tis done, - Or cut, if cut by you.' -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0130" id="link2H_4_0130"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 125. A CONJURATION: TO ELECTRA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - By those soft tods of wool, - With which the air is full; - By all those tinctures there - That paint the hemisphere; - By dews and drizzling rain, - That swell the golden grain; - By all those sweets that be - I'th' flowery nunnery; - By silent nights, and the - Three forms of Hecate; - By all aspects that bless - The sober sorceress, - While juice she strains, and pith - To make her philtres with; - By Time, that hastens on - Things to perfection; - And by your self, the best - Conjurement of the rest; - —O, my Electra! be - In love with none but me. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0131" id="link2H_4_0131"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 126. TO SAPHO - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sapho, I will chuse to go - Where the northern winds do blow - Endless ice, and endless snow; - Rather than I once would see - But a winter's face in thee,— - To benumb my hopes and me. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0132" id="link2H_4_0132"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 127. OF LOVE: A SONNET - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - How Love came in, I do not know, - Whether by th'eye, or ear, or no; - Or whether with the soul it came, - At first, infused with the same; - Whether in part 'tis here or there, - Or, like the soul, whole every where. - This troubles me; but I as well - As any other, this can tell; - That when from hence she does depart, - The outlet then is from the heart. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0133" id="link2H_4_0133"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 128. TO DIANEME - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes, - Which, star-like, sparkle in their skies; - Nor be you proud, that you can see - All hearts your captives, yours, yet free; - Be you not proud of that rich hair - Which wantons with the love-sick air; - Whenas that ruby which you wear, - Sunk from the tip of your soft ear, - Will last to be a precious stone, - When all your world of beauty's gone. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0134" id="link2H_4_0134"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 129. TO DIANEME - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Dear, though to part it be a hell, - Yet, Dianeme, now farewell! - Thy frown last night did bid me go, - But whither, only grief does know. - I do beseech thee, ere we part, - (If merciful, as fair thou art; - Or else desir'st that maids should tell - Thy pity by Love's chronicle) - O, Dianeme, rather kill - Me, than to make me languish still! - 'Tis cruelty in thee to th' height, - Thus, thus to wound, not kill outright; - Yet there's a way found, if thou please, - By sudden death, to give me ease; - And thus devised,—do thou but this, - —Bequeath to me one parting kiss! - So sup'rabundant joy shall be - The executioner of me. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0135" id="link2H_4_0135"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 130. KISSING USURY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Biancha, let - Me pay the debt - I owe thee for a kiss - Thou lend'st to me; - And I to thee - Will render ten for this. - - If thou wilt say, - Ten will not pay - For that so rich a one; - I'll clear the sum, - If it will come - Unto a million. - - He must of right, - To th' utmost mite, - Make payment for his pleasure, - (By this I guess) - Of happiness - Who has a little measure. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0136" id="link2H_4_0136"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 131. UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I have lost, and lately, these - Many dainty mistresses:— - Stately Julia, prime of all; - Sapho next, a principal: - Smooth Anthea, for a skin - White, and heaven-like crystalline: - Sweet Electra, and the choice - Myrha, for the lute and voice. - Next, Corinna, for her wit, - And the graceful use of it; - With Perilla:—All are gone; - Only Herrick's left alone, - For to number sorrow by - Their departures hence, and die. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0137" id="link2H_4_0137"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 132. THE WOUNDED HEART - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Come, bring your sampler, and with art - Draw in't a wounded heart, - And dropping here and there; - Not that I think that any dart - Can make your's bleed a tear, - Or pierce it any where; - Yet do it to this end,—that I - May by - This secret see, - Though you can make - That heart to bleed, your's ne'er will ache - For me, -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0138" id="link2H_4_0138"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 133. HIS MISTRESS TO HIM AT HIS FAREWELL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - You may vow I'll not forget - To pay the debt - Which to thy memory stands as due - As faith can seal it you. - —Take then tribute of my tears; - So long as I have fears - To prompt me, I shall ever - Languish and look, but thy return see never. - Oh then to lessen my despair, - Print thy lips into the air, - So by this - Means, I may kiss thy kiss, - Whenas some kind - Wind - Shall hither waft it:—And, in lieu, - My lips shall send a thousand back to you. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0139" id="link2H_4_0139"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 134. CRUTCHES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Thou see'st me, Lucia, this year droop; - Three zodiacs fill'd more, I shall stoop; - Let crutches then provided be - To shore up my debility: - Then, while thou laugh'st, I'll sighing cry, - A ruin underpropt am I: - Don will I then my beadsman's gown; - And when so feeble I am grown - As my weak shoulders cannot bear - The burden of a grasshopper; - Yet with the bench of aged sires, - When I and they keep termly fires, - With my weak voice I'll sing, or say - Some odes I made of Lucia;— - Then will I heave my wither'd hand - To Jove the mighty, for to stand - Thy faithful friend, and to pour down - Upon thee many a benison. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0140" id="link2H_4_0140"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 135. TO ANTHEA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Anthea, I am going hence - With some small stock of innocence; - But yet those blessed gates I see - Withstanding entrance unto me; - To pray for me do thou begin;— - The porter then will let me in. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0141" id="link2H_4_0141"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 136. TO ANTHEA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Now is the time when all the lights wax dim; - And thou, Anthea, must withdraw from him - Who was thy servant: Dearest, bury me - Under that holy-oak, or gospel-tree; - Where, though thou see'st not, thou may'st think upon - Me, when thou yearly go'st procession; - Or, for mine honour, lay me in that tomb - In which thy sacred reliques shall have room; - For my embalming, Sweetest, there will be - No spices wanting, when I'm laid by thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0142" id="link2H_4_0142"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 137. TO HIS LOVELY MISTRESSES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - One night i'th' year, my dearest Beauties, come, - And bring those dew-drink-offerings to my tomb; - When thence ye see my reverend ghost to rise, - And there to lick th' effused sacrifice, - Though paleness be the livery that I wear, - Look ye not wan or colourless for fear. - Trust me, I will not hurt ye, or once show - The least grim look, or cast a frown on you; - Nor shall the tapers, when I'm there, burn blue. - This I may do, perhaps, as I glide by,— - Cast on my girls a glance, and loving eye; - Or fold mine arms, and sigh, because I've lost - The world so soon, and in it, you the most: - —Than these, no fears more on your fancies fall, - Though then I smile, and speak no words at all. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0143" id="link2H_4_0143"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 138. TO PERlLLA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve to see - Me, day by day, to steal away from thee? - Age calls me hence, and my gray hairs bid come, - And haste away to mine eternal home; - 'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this, - That I must give thee the supremest kiss:— - Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring - Part of the cream from that religious spring, - With which, Perilla, wash my hands and feet; - That done, then wind me in that very sheet - Which wrapt thy smooth limbs, when thou didst implore - The Gods' protection, but the night before; - Follow me weeping to my turf, and there - Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear: - Then lastly, let some weekly strewings be - Devoted to the memory of me; - Then shall my ghost not walk about, but keep - Still in the cool and silent shades of sleep. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0144" id="link2H_4_0144"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 139. A MEDITATION FOR HIS MISTRESS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - You are a Tulip seen to-day, - But, Dearest, of so short a stay, - That where you grew, scarce man can say. - - You are a lovely July-flower; - Yet one rude wind, or ruffling shower, - Will force you hence, and in an hour. - - You are a sparkling Rose i'th' bud, - Yet lost, ere that chaste flesh and blood - Can show where you or grew or stood. - - You are a full-spread fair-set Vine, - And can with tendrils love entwine; - Yet dried, ere you distil your wine. - - You are like Balm, enclosed well - In amber, or some crystal shell; - Yet lost ere you transfuse your smell. - - You are a dainty Violet; - Yet wither'd, ere you can be set - Within the virgins coronet. - - You are the Queen all flowers among; - But die you must, fair maid, ere long, - As he, the maker of this song. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0145" id="link2H_4_0145"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 140. TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Gather ye rose-buds while ye may: - Old Time is still a-flying; - And this same flower that smiles to-day, - To-morrow will be dying. - - The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, - The higher he's a-getting, - The sooner will his race be run, - And nearer he's to setting. - - That age is best, which is the first, - When youth and blood are warmer; - But being spent, the worse, and worst - Times, still succeed the former. - - —Then be not coy, but use your time, - And while ye may, go marry; - For having lost but once your prime, - You may for ever tarry. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0146" id="link2H_4_0146"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - EPIGRAMS - </h2> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0147" id="link2H_4_0147"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 141. POSTING TO PRINTING - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Let others to the printing-press run fast; - Since after death comes glory, I'll not haste. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0148" id="link2H_4_0148"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 142. HIS LOSS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - All has been plunder'd from me but my wit: - Fortune herself can lay no claim to it. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0149" id="link2H_4_0149"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 143. THINGS MORTAL STILL MUTABLE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Things are uncertain; and the more we get, - The more on icy pavements we are set. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0150" id="link2H_4_0150"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 144. NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - No man such rare parts hath, that he can swim, - If favour or occasion help not him. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0151" id="link2H_4_0151"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 145. THE PRESENT TIME BEST PLEASETH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Praise, they that will, times past: I joy to see - Myself now live; this age best pleaseth me! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0152" id="link2H_4_0152"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 146. WANT - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Want is a softer wax, that takes thereon, - This, that, and every base impression, -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0153" id="link2H_4_0153"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 147. SATISFACTION FOR SUFFERINGS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - For all our works a recompence is sure; - 'Tis sweet to think on what was hard t'endure. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0154" id="link2H_4_0154"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 148. WRITING - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When words we want, Love teacheth to indite; - And what we blush to speak, she bids us write. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0155" id="link2H_4_0155"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 149. THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Beauty no other thing is, than a beam - Flash'd out between the middle and extreme. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0156" id="link2H_4_0156"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 150. A MEAN IN OUR MEANS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Though frankincense the deities require, - We must not give all to the hallow'd fire. - Such be our gifts, and such be our expense, - As for ourselves to leave some frankincense. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0157" id="link2H_4_0157"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 151. MONEY MAKES THE MIRTH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When all birds else do of their music fail, - Money's the still-sweet-singing nightingale! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0158" id="link2H_4_0158"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 152. TEARS AND LAUGHTER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Knew'st thou one month would take thy life away, - Thou'dst weep; but laugh, should it not last a day. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0159" id="link2H_4_0159"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 153. UPON TEARS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Tears, though they're here below the sinner's brine, - Above, they are the Angels' spiced wine. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0160" id="link2H_4_0160"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 154. ON LOVE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Love's of itself too sweet; the best of all - Is, when love's honey has a dash of gall. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0161" id="link2H_4_0161"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 155. PEACE NOT PERMANENT - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Great cities seldom rest; if there be none - T' invade from far, they'll find worse foes at home. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0162" id="link2H_4_0162"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 156. PARDONS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Those ends in war the best contentment bring, - Whose peace is made up with a pardoning. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0163" id="link2H_4_0163"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 157. TRUTH AND ERROR - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Twixt truth and error, there's this difference known - Error is fruitful, truth is only one. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0164" id="link2H_4_0164"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 158. WlT PUNISHED PROSPERS MOST - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Dread not the shackles; on with thine intent, - Good wits get more fame by their punishment. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0165" id="link2H_4_0165"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 159. BURIAL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Man may want land to live in; but for all - Nature finds out some place for burial. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0166" id="link2H_4_0166"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 160. NO PAINS, NO GAINS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - If little labour, little are our gains; - Man's fortunes are according to his pains. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0167" id="link2H_4_0167"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 161. TO YOUTH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may; - The morrow's life too late is; Live to-day. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0168" id="link2H_4_0168"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 162. TO ENJOY THE TIME - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - While fates permit us, let's be merry; - Pass all we must the fatal ferry; - And this our life, too, whirls away, - With the rotation of the day. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0169" id="link2H_4_0169"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 163. FELICITY QUICK OF FLIGHT - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Every time seems short to be - That's measured by felicity; - But one half-hour that's made up here - With grief, seems longer than a year. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0170" id="link2H_4_0170"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 164. MIRTH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - True mirth resides not in the smiling skin; - The sweetest solace is to act no sin. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0171" id="link2H_4_0171"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 165. THE HEART - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part - Without the sweet concurrence of the heart. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0172" id="link2H_4_0172"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 166. LOVE, WHAT IT IS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Love is a circle, that doth restless move - In the same sweet eternity of Love. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0173" id="link2H_4_0173"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 167. DREAMS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here we are all, by day; by night we're hurl'd - By dreams, each one into a several world. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0174" id="link2H_4_0174"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 168. AMBITION - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - In man, ambition is the common'st thing; - Each one by nature loves to be a king. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0175" id="link2H_4_0175"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 169. SAFETY ON THE SHORE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - What though the sea be calm? Trust to the shore; - Ships have been drown'd, where late they danced before. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0176" id="link2H_4_0176"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 170. UPON A PAINTED GENTLEWOMAN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Men say you're fair; and fair ye are, 'tis true; - But, hark! we praise the painter now, not you. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0177" id="link2H_4_0177"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 171. UPON WRINKLES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Wrinkles no more are, or no less, - Than beauty turn'd to sourness. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0178" id="link2H_4_0178"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 172. CASUALTIES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Good things, that come of course, far less do please - Than those which come by sweet contingencies. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0179" id="link2H_4_0179"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 173. TO LIVE FREELY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Let's live in haste; use pleasures while we may; - Could life return, 'twould never lose a day. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0180" id="link2H_4_0180"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 174. NOTHING FREE-COST - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Nothing comes free-cost here; Jove will not let - His gifts go from him, if not bought with sweat. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0181" id="link2H_4_0181"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 175. MAN'S DYING-PLACE UNCERTAIN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Man knows where first he ships himself; but he - Never can tell where shall his landing be. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0182" id="link2H_4_0182"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 176. LOSS FROM THE LEAST - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Great men by small means oft are overthrown; - He's lord of thy life, who contemns his own. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0183" id="link2H_4_0183"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 177. POVERTY AND RICHES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Who with a little cannot be content, - Endures an everlasting punishment. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0184" id="link2H_4_0184"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 178. UPON MAN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Man is composed here of a twofold part; - The first of nature, and the next of art; - Art presupposes nature; nature, she - Prepares the way for man's docility. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0185" id="link2H_4_0185"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 179. PURPOSES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - No wrath of men, or rage of seas, - Can shake a just man's purposes; - No threats of tyrants, or the grim - Visage of them can alter him; - But what he doth at first intend, - That he holds firmly to the end. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0186" id="link2H_4_0186"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 180. FOUR THINGS MAKE US HAPPY HERE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Health is the first good lent to men; - A gentle disposition then: - Next, to be rich by no by-ways; - Lastly, with friends t' enjoy our days. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0187" id="link2H_4_0187"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 181. THE WATCH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Man is a watch, wound up at first, but never - Wound up again; Once down, he's down for ever. - The watch once down, all motions then do cease; - The man's pulse stopt, all passions sleep in peace. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0188" id="link2H_4_0188"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 182. UPON THE DETRACTER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I ask'd thee oft what poets thou hast read, - And lik'st the best? Still thou repli'st, The dead. - —I shall, ere long, with green turfs cover'd be; - Then sure thou'lt like, or thou wilt envy, me. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0189" id="link2H_4_0189"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 183. ON HIMSELF - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Live by thy Muse thou shalt, when others die, - Leaving no fame to long posterity; - When monarchies trans-shifted are, and gone, - Here shall endure thy vast dominion. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0190" id="link2H_4_0190"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - NATURE AND LIFE - </h2> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0191" id="link2H_4_0191"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 184. I CALL AND I CALL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I call, I call: who do ye call? - The maids to catch this cowslip ball! - But since these cowslips fading be, - Troth, leave the flowers, and maids, take me! - Yet, if that neither you will do, - Speak but the word, and I'll take you, -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0192" id="link2H_4_0192"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 185. THE SUCCESSION OF THE FOUR SWEET MONTHS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - First, April, she with mellow showers - Opens the way for early flowers; - Then after her comes smiling May, - In a more rich and sweet array; - Next enters June, and brings us more - Gems than those two that went before; - Then, lastly, July comes, and she - More wealth brings in than all those three. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0193" id="link2H_4_0193"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 186. TO BLOSSOMS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, - Why do ye fall so fast? - Your date is not so past, - But you may stay yet here a-while, - To blush and gently smile; - And go at last. - - What, were ye born to be - An hour or half's delight; - And so to bid good-night? - 'Twas pity Nature brought ye forth, - Merely to show your worth, - And lose you quite. - - But you are lovely leaves, where we - May read how soon things have - Their end, though ne'er so brave: - And after they have shown their pride, - Like you, a-while;—they glide - Into the grave. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0194" id="link2H_4_0194"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 187. THE SHOWER OF BLOSSOMS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Love in a shower of blossoms came - Down, and half drown'd me with the same; - The blooms that fell were white and red; - But with such sweets commingled, - As whether (this) I cannot tell, - My sight was pleased more, or my smell; - But true it was, as I roll'd there, - Without a thought of hurt or fear, - Love turn'd himself into a bee, - And with his javelin wounded me;—- - From which mishap this use I make; - Where most sweets are, there lies a snake; - Kisses and favours are sweet things; - But those have thorns, and these have stings. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0195" id="link2H_4_0195"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 188. TO THE ROSE: SONG - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Go, happy Rose, and interwove - With other flowers, bind my Love. - Tell her, too, she must not be - Longer flowing, longer free, - That so oft has fetter'd me. - - Say, if she's fretful, I have bands - Of pearl and gold, to bind her hands; - Tell her, if she struggle still, - I have myrtle rods at will, - For to tame, though not to kill. - - Take thou my blessing thus, and go - And tell her this,—but do not so!— - Lest a handsome anger fly - Like a lightning from her eye, - And burn thee up, as well as I! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0196" id="link2H_4_0196"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 189. THE FUNERAL RITES OF THE ROSE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - The Rose was sick, and smiling died; - And, being to be sanctified, - About the bed, there sighing stood - The sweet and flowery sisterhood. - Some hung the head, while some did bring, - To wash her, water from the spring; - Some laid her forth, while others wept, - But all a solemn fast there kept. - The holy sisters some among, - The sacred dirge and trental sung; - But ah! what sweets smelt everywhere, - As heaven had spent all perfumes there! - At last, when prayers for the dead, - And rites, were all accomplished, - They, weeping, spread a lawny loom, - And closed her up as in a tomb. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0197" id="link2H_4_0197"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 190. THE BLEEDING HAND; OR THE SPRIG OF EGLANTINE GIVEN TO A MAID - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - From this bleeding hand of mine, - Take this sprig of Eglantine: - Which, though sweet unto your smell, - Yet the fretful briar will tell, - He who plucks the sweets, shall prove - Many thorns to be in love. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0198" id="link2H_4_0198"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 191. TO CARNATIONS: A SONG - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Stay while ye will, or go, - And leave no scent behind ye: - Yet trust me, I shall know - The place where I may find ye. - - Within my Lucia's cheek, - (Whose livery ye wear) - Play ye at hide or seek, - I'm sure to find ye there. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0199" id="link2H_4_0199"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 192. TO PANSIES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Ah, Cruel Love! must I endure - Thy many scorns, and find no cure? - Say, are thy medicines made to be - Helps to all others but to me? - I'll leave thee, and to Pansies come: - Comforts you'll afford me some: - You can ease my heart, and do - What Love could ne'er be brought unto. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0200" id="link2H_4_0200"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 193. HOW PANSIES OR HEARTS-EASE CAME FIRST - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Frolic virgins once these were, - Overloving, living here; - Being here their ends denied - Ran for sweet-hearts mad, and died. - Love, in pity of their tears, - And their loss in blooming years, - For their restless here-spent hours, - Gave them hearts-ease turn'd to flowers. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0201" id="link2H_4_0201"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 194. WHY FLOWERS CHANGE COLOUR - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - These fresh beauties, we can prove, - Once were virgins, sick of love, - Turn'd to flowers: still in some, - Colours go and colours come. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0202" id="link2H_4_0202"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 195. THE PRIMROSE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Ask me why I send you here - This sweet Infanta of the year? - Ask me why I send to you - This Primrose, thus bepearl'd with dew? - I will whisper to your ears,— - The sweets of love are mixt with tears. - - Ask me why this flower does show - So yellow-green, and sickly too? - Ask me why the stalk is weak - And bending, yet it doth not break? - I will answer,—these discover - What fainting hopes are in a lover. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0203" id="link2H_4_0203"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 196. TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Why do ye weep, sweet babes? can tears - Speak grief in you, - Who were but born - just as the modest morn - Teem'd her refreshing dew? - Alas, you have not known that shower - That mars a flower, - Nor felt th' unkind - Breath of a blasting wind, - Nor are ye worn with years; - Or warp'd as we, - Who think it strange to see, - Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young, - To speak by tears, before ye have a tongue. - - Speak, whimp'ring younglings, and make known - The reason why - Ye droop and weep; - Is it for want of sleep, - Or childish lullaby? - Or that ye have not seen as yet - The violet? - Or brought a kiss - From that Sweet-heart, to this? - —No, no, this sorrow shown - By your tears shed, - Would have this lecture read, - That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, - Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0204" id="link2H_4_0204"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 197. TO DAISIES, NOT TO SHUT SO SOON - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Shut not so soon; the dull-eyed night - Has not as yet begun - To make a seizure on the light, - Or to seal up the sun. - - No marigolds yet closed are, - No shadows great appear; - Nor doth the early shepherds' star - Shine like a spangle here. - - Stay but till my Julia close - Her life-begetting eye; - And let the whole world then dispose - Itself to live or die. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0205" id="link2H_4_0205"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 198. TO DAFFADILS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Fair Daffadils, we weep to see - You haste away so soon; - As yet the early-rising sun - Has not attain'd his noon. - Stay, stay, - Until the hasting day - Has run - But to the even-song; - And, having pray'd together, we - Will go with you along. - - We have short time to stay, as you; - We have as short a spring; - As quick a growth to meet decay, - As you, or any thing. - We die - As your hours do, and dry - Away, - Like to the summer's rain; - Or as the pearls of morning's dew, - Ne'er to be found again. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0206" id="link2H_4_0206"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 199. TO VIOLETS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Welcome, maids of honour, - You do bring - In the Spring; - And wait upon her. - - She has virgins many, - Fresh and fair; - Yet you are - More sweet than any. - - You're the maiden posies; - And so graced, - To be placed - 'Fore damask roses. - - —Yet, though thus respected, - By and by - Ye do lie, - Poor girls, neglected. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0207" id="link2H_4_0207"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 200. THE APRON OF FLOWERS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - To gather flowers, Sappha went, - And homeward she did bring - Within her lawny continent, - The treasure of the Spring. - - She smiling blush'd, and blushing smiled, - And sweetly blushing thus, - She look'd as she'd been got with child - By young Favonius. - - Her apron gave, as she did pass, - An odour more divine, - More pleasing too, than ever was - The lap of Proserpine. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0208" id="link2H_4_0208"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 201. THE LILY IN A CRYSTAL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - You have beheld a smiling rose - When virgins' hands have drawn - O'er it a cobweb-lawn: - And here, you see, this lily shows, - Tomb'd in a crystal stone, - More fair in this transparent case - Than when it grew alone, - And had but single grace. - - You see how cream but naked is, - Nor dances in the eye - Without a strawberry; - Or some fine tincture, like to this, - Which draws the sight thereto, - More by that wantoning with it, - Than when the paler hue - No mixture did admit. - - You see how amber through the streams - More gently strokes the sight, - With some conceal'd delight, - Than when he darts his radiant beams - Into the boundless air; - Where either too much light his worth - Doth all at once impair, - Or set it little forth. - - Put purple grapes or cherries in- - To glass, and they will send - More beauty to commend - Them, from that clean and subtle skin, - Than if they naked stood, - And had no other pride at all, - But their own flesh and blood, - And tinctures natural. - - Thus lily, rose, grape, cherry, cream, - And strawberry do stir - More love, when they transfer - A weak, a soft, a broken beam; - Than if they should discover - At full their proper excellence, - Without some scene cast over, - To juggle with the sense. - - Thus let this crystall'd lily be - A rule, how far to teach - Your nakedness must reach; - And that no further than we see - Those glaring colours laid - By art's wise hand, but to this end - They should obey a shade, - Lest they too far extend. - - —So though you're white as swan or snow, - And have the power to move - A world of men to love; - Yet, when your lawns and silks shall flow, - And that white cloud divide - Into a doubtful twilight;—then, - Then will your hidden pride - Raise greater fires in men. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0209" id="link2H_4_0209"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 202. TO MEADOWS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Ye have been fresh and green, - Ye have been fill'd with flowers; - And ye the walks have been - Where maids have spent their hours. - - You have beheld how they - With wicker arks did come, - To kiss and bear away - The richer cowslips home. - - You've heard them sweetly sing, - And seen them in a round; - Each virgin, like a spring, - With honeysuckles crown'd. - - But now, we see none here, - Whose silvery feet did tread - And with dishevell'd hair - Adorn'd this smoother mead. - - Like unthrifts, having spent - Your stock, and needy grown - You're left here to lament - Your poor estates alone. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0210" id="link2H_4_0210"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 203. TO A GENTLEWOMAN, OBJECTING TO HIM HIS GRAY HAIRS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Am I despised, because you say; - And I dare swear, that I am gray? - Know, Lady, you have but your day! - And time will come when you shall wear - Such frost and snow upon your hair; - And when, though long, it comes to pass, - You question with your looking-glass, - And in that sincere crystal seek - But find no rose-bud in your cheek, - Nor any bed to give the shew - Where such a rare carnation grew:- - Ah! then too late, close in your chamber keeping, - It will be told - That you are old,— - By those true tears you're weeping. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0211" id="link2H_4_0211"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 204. THE CHANGES: TO CORINNA - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Be not proud, but now incline - Your soft ear to discipline; - You have changes in your life, - Sometimes peace, and sometimes strife; - You have ebbs of face and flows, - As your health or comes or goes; - You have hopes, and doubts, and fears, - Numberless as are your hairs; - You have pulses that do beat - High, and passions less of heat; - You are young, but must be old:— - And, to these, ye must be told, - Time, ere long, will come and plow - Loathed furrows in your brow: - And the dimness of your eye - Will no other thing imply, - But you must die - As well as I. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0212" id="link2H_4_0212"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 205. UPON MRS ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF AMARILLIS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sweet Amarillis, by a spring's - Soft and soul-melting murmurings, - Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flew - A Robin-red-breast; who at view, - Not seeing her at all to stir, - Brought leaves and moss to cover her: - But while he, perking, there did pry - About the arch of either eye, - The lid began to let out day,— - At which poor Robin flew away; - And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved, - He chirpt for joy, to see himself deceived. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0213" id="link2H_4_0213"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 206. NO FAULT IN WOMEN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - No fault in women, to refuse - The offer which they most would chuse. - —No fault: in women, to confess - How tedious they are in their dress; - —No fault in women, to lay on - The tincture of vermilion; - And there to give the cheek a dye - Of white, where Nature doth deny. - —No fault in women, to make show - Of largeness, when they're nothing so; - When, true it is, the outside swells - With inward buckram, little else. - —No fault in women, though they be - But seldom from suspicion free; - —No fault in womankind at all, - If they but slip, and never fall. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0214" id="link2H_4_0214"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 207. THE BAG OF THE BEE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - About the sweet bag of a bee - Two Cupids fell at odds; - And whose the pretty prize should be - They vow'd to ask the Gods. - - Which Venus hearing, thither came, - And for their boldness stript them; - And taking thence from each his flame, - With rods of myrtle whipt them. - - Which done, to still their wanton cries, - When quiet grown she'd seen them, - She kiss'd and wiped their dove-like eyes, - And gave the bag between them. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0215" id="link2H_4_0215"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 208. THE PRESENT; OR, THE BAG OF THE BEE: - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Fly to my mistress, pretty pilfering bee, - And say thou bring'st this honey-bag from me; - When on her lip thou hast thy sweet dew placed, - Mark if her tongue but slyly steal a taste; - If so, we live; if not, with mournful hum, - Toll forth my death; next, to my burial come. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0216" id="link2H_4_0216"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 209. TO THE WATER-NYMPHS DRINKING AT THE FOUNTAIN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Reach with your whiter hands to me - Some crystal of the spring; - And I about the cup shall see - Fresh lilies flourishing. - - Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this— - To th' glass your lips incline; - And I shall see by that one kiss - The water turn'd to wine. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0217" id="link2H_4_0217"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 210. HOW SPRINGS CAME FIRST - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - These springs were maidens once that loved, - But lost to that they most approved: - My story tells, by Love they were - Turn'd to these springs which we see here: - The pretty whimpering that they make, - When of the banks their leave they take, - Tells ye but this, they are the same, - In nothing changed but in their name. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0218" id="link2H_4_0218"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 211. TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - As is your name, so is your comely face - Touch'd every where with such diffused grace, - As that in all that admirable round, - There is not one least solecism found; - And as that part, so every portion else - Keeps line for line with beauty's parallels. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0219" id="link2H_4_0219"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 212. A HYMN TO THE GRACES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When I love, as some have told - Love I shall, when I am old, - O ye Graces! make me fit - For the welcoming of it! - Clean my rooms, as temples be, - To entertain that deity; - Give me words wherewith to woo, - Suppling and successful too; - Winning postures; and withal, - Manners each way musical; - Sweetness to allay my sour - And unsmooth behaviour: - For I know you have the skill - Vines to prune, though not to kill; - And of any wood ye see, - You can make a Mercury. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0220" id="link2H_4_0220"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 213. A HYMN TO LOVE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I will confess - With cheerfulness, - Love is a thing so likes me, - That, let her lay - On me all day, - I'll kiss the hand that strikes me. - - I will not, I, - Now blubb'ring cry, - It, ah! too late repents me - That I did fall - To love at all— - Since love so much contents me. - - No, no, I'll be - In fetters free; - While others they sit wringing - Their hands for pain, - I'll entertain - The wounds of love with singing. - - With flowers and wine, - And cakes divine, - To strike me I will tempt thee; - Which done, no more - I'll come before - Thee and thine altars empty. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0221" id="link2H_4_0221"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 214. UPON LOVE: BY WAY OF QUESTION AND ANSWER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Like, and dislike ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Stroke ye, to strike ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Love will be-fool ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Heat ye, to cool ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Love, gifts will send ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Stock ye, to spend ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Love will fulfil ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Kiss ye, to kill ye. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0222" id="link2H_4_0222"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 215. LOVERS HOW THEY COME AND PART - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - A Gyges ring they bear about them still, - To be, and not seen when and where they will; - They tread on clouds, and though they sometimes fall, - They fall like dew, and make no noise at all: - So silently they one to th' other come, - As colours steal into the pear or plum, - And air-like, leave no pression to be seen - Where'er they met, or parting place has been. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0223" id="link2H_4_0223"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 216. THE KISS: A DIALOGUE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - 1 Among thy fancies, tell me this, - What is the thing we call a kiss? - 2 I shall resolve ye what it is:— - - It is a creature born and bred - Between the lips, all cherry-red, - By love and warm desires fed,— - CHOR. And makes more soft the bridal bed. - - 2 It is an active flame, that flies - First to the babies of the eyes, - And charms them there with lullabies,— - CHOR. And stills the bride, too, when she cries. - - 2 Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear, - It frisks and flies, now here, now there: - 'Tis now far off, and then 'tis near,— - CHOR. And here, and there, and every where. - - 1 Has it a speaking virtue? 2 Yes. - 1 How speaks it, say? 2 Do you but this,— - Part your join'd lips, then speaks your kiss; - CHOR. And this Love's sweetest language is. - - 1 Has it a body? 2 Ay, and wings, - With thousand rare encolourings; - And as it flies, it gently sings— - CHOR. Love honey yields, but never stings. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0224" id="link2H_4_0224"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 217. COMFORT TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - What needs complaints, - When she a place - Has with the race - Of saints? - In endless mirth, - She thinks not on - What's said or done - In earth: - She sees no tears, - Or any tone - Of thy deep groan - She hears; - Nor does she mind, - Or think on't now, - That ever thou - Wast kind:— - But changed above, - She likes not there, - As she did here, - Thy love. - —Forbear, therefore, - And lull asleep - Thy woes, and weep - No more. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0225" id="link2H_4_0225"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 218. ORPHEUS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Orpheus he went, as poets tell, - To fetch Eurydice from hell; - And had her, but it was upon - This short, but strict condition; - Backward he should not look, while he - Led her through hell's obscurity. - But ah! it happen'd, as he made - His passage through that dreadful shade, - Revolve he did his loving eye, - For gentle fear or jealousy; - And looking back, that look did sever - Him and Eurydice for ever. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0226" id="link2H_4_0226"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 219. A REQUEST TO THE GRACES - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Ponder my words, if so that any be - Known guilty here of incivility; - Let what is graceless, discomposed, and rude, - With sweetness, smoothness, softness be endued: - Teach it to blush, to curtsey, lisp, and show - Demure, but yet full of temptation, too. - Numbers ne'er tickle, or but lightly please, - Unless they have some wanton carriages:— - This if ye do, each piece will here be good - And graceful made by your neat sisterhood. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0227" id="link2H_4_0227"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 220. A HYMN TO VENUS AND CUPID - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Sea-born goddess, let me be - By thy son thus graced, and thee, - That whene'er I woo, I find - Virgins coy, but not unkind. - Let me, when I kiss a maid, - Taste her lips, so overlaid - With love's sirop, that I may - In your temple, when I pray, - Kiss the altar, and confess - There's in love no bitterness. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0228" id="link2H_4_0228"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 221. TO BACCHUS: A CANTICLE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Whither dost thou hurry me, - Bacchus, being full of thee? - This way, that way, that way, this,— - Here and there a fresh Love is; - That doth like me, this doth please; - —Thus a thousand mistresses - I have now: yet I alone, - Having all, enjoy not one! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0229" id="link2H_4_0229"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 222. A HYMN TO BACCHUS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Bacchus, let me drink no more! - Wild are seas that want a shore! - When our drinking has no stint, - There is no one pleasure in't. - I have drank up for to please - Thee, that great cup, Hercules. - Urge no more; and there shall be - Daffadils giv'n up to thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0230" id="link2H_4_0230"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 223. A CANTICLE TO APOLLO - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Play, Phoebus, on thy lute, - And we will sit all mute; - By listening to thy lyre, - That sets all ears on fire. - - Hark, hark! the God does play! - And as he leads the way - Through heaven, the very spheres, - As men, turn all to ears! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0231" id="link2H_4_0231"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 224. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM A SWEET SICK YOUTH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Charms, that call down the moon from out her sphere, - On this sick youth work your enchantments here! - Bind up his senses with your numbers, so - As to entrance his pain, or cure his woe. - Fall gently, gently, and a-while him keep - Lost in the civil wilderness of sleep: - That done, then let him, dispossess'd of pain, - Like to a slumbering bride, awake again. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0232" id="link2H_4_0232"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 225. TO MUSIC: A SONG - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Music, thou queen of heaven, care-charming spell, - That strik'st a stillness into hell; - Thou that tam'st tigers, and fierce storms, that rise, - With thy soul-melting lullabies; - Fall down, down, down, from those thy chiming spheres - To charm our souls, as thou enchant'st our ears. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0233" id="link2H_4_0233"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 226. SOFT MUSIC - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - The mellow touch of music most doth wound - The soul, when it doth rather sigh, than sound. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0234" id="link2H_4_0234"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 227. TO MUSIC - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Begin to charm, and as thou strok'st mine ears - With thine enchantment, melt me into tears. - Then let thy active hand scud o'er thy lyre, - And make my spirits frantic with the fire; - That done, sink down into a silvery strain, - And make me smooth as balm and oil again. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0235" id="link2H_4_0235"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 228. THE VOICE AND VIOL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Rare is the voice itself: but when we sing - To th' lute or viol, then 'tis ravishing. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0236" id="link2H_4_0236"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 229. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM HIS FEVER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Charm me asleep, and melt me so - With thy delicious numbers; - That being ravish'd, hence I go - Away in easy slumbers. - Ease my sick head, - And make my bed, - Thou Power that canst sever - From me this ill;— - And quickly still, - Though thou not kill - My fever. - - Thou sweetly canst convert the same - From a consuming fire, - Into a gentle-licking flame, - And make it thus expire. - Then make me weep - My pains asleep, - And give me such reposes, - That I, poor I, - May think, thereby, - I live and die - 'Mongst roses. - - Fall on me like a silent dew, - Or like those maiden showers, - Which, by the peep of day, do strew - A baptism o'er the flowers. - Melt, melt my pains - With thy soft strains; - That having ease me given, - With full delight, - I leave this light, - And take my flight - For Heaven. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0237" id="link2H_4_0237"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - MUSAE GRAVIORES - </h2> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0238" id="link2H_4_0238"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 230. A THANKSGIVING TO GOD, FOR HIS HOUSE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Lord, thou hast given me a cell, - Wherein to dwell; - A little house, whose humble roof - Is weather proof; - Under the spars of which I lie - Both soft and dry; - Where thou, my chamber for to ward, - Hast set a guard - Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep - Me, while I sleep. - Low is my porch, as is my fate; - Both void of state; - And yet the threshold of my door - Is worn by th' poor, - Who thither come, and freely get - Good words, or meat. - Like as my parlour, so my hall - And kitchen's small; - A little buttery, and therein - A little bin, - Which keeps my little loaf of bread - Unchipt, unflead; - Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar - Make me a fire, - Close by whose living coal I sit, - And glow like it. - Lord, I confess too, when I dine, - The pulse is thine, - And all those other bits that be - There placed by thee; - The worts, the purslain, and the mess - Of water-cress, - Which of thy kindness thou hast sent; - And my content - Makes those, and my beloved beet, - To be more sweet. - 'Tis thou that crown'st my glittering hearth - With guiltless mirth, - And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink, - Spiced to the brink. - Lord, 'tis thy plenty-dropping hand - That soils my land, - And giv'st me, for my bushel sown, - Twice ten for one; - Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay - Her egg each day; - Besides, my healthful ewes to bear - Me twins each year; - The while the conduits of my kine - Run cream, for wine: - All these, and better, thou dost send - Me, to this end,— - That I should render, for my part, - A thankful heart; - Which, fired with incense, I resign, - As wholly thine; - —But the acceptance, that must be, - My Christ, by Thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0239" id="link2H_4_0239"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 231. MATINS, OR MORNING PRAYER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When with the virgin morning thou dost rise, - Crossing thyself come thus to sacrifice; - First wash thy heart in innocence; then bring - Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing. - Next to the altar humbly kneel, and thence - Give up thy soul in clouds of frankincense. - Thy golden censers fill'd with odours sweet - Shall make thy actions with their ends to meet. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0240" id="link2H_4_0240"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 232. GOOD PRECEPTS, OR COUNSEL - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - In all thy need, be thou possest - Still with a well prepared breast; - Nor let the shackles make thee sad; - Thou canst but have what others had. - And this for comfort thou must know, - Times that are ill won't still be so: - Clouds will not ever pour down rain; - A sullen day will clear again. - First, peals of thunder we must hear; - When lutes and harps shall stroke the ear. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0241" id="link2H_4_0241"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 233. PRAY AND PROSPER - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - First offer incense; then, thy field and meads - Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads. - The spangling dew dredged o'er the grass shall be - Turn'd all to mell and manna there for thee. - Butter of amber, cream, and wine, and oil, - Shall run as rivers all throughout thy soil. - Would'st thou to sincere silver turn thy mould? - —Pray once, twice pray; and turn thy ground to gold. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0242" id="link2H_4_0242"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 234. THE BELL-MAN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Along the dark and silent night, - With my lantern and my light - And the tinkling of my bell, - Thus I walk, and this I tell: - —Death and dreadfulness call on - To the general session; - To whose dismal bar, we there - All accounts must come to clear: - Scores of sins we've made here many; - Wiped out few, God knows, if any. - Rise, ye debtors, then, and fall - To make payment, while I call: - Ponder this, when I am gone: - —By the clock 'tis almost One. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0243" id="link2H_4_0243"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 235. UPON TIME - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Time was upon - The wing, to fly away; - And I call'd on - Him but awhile to stay; - But he'd be gone, - For aught that I could say. - - He held out then - A writing, as he went, - And ask'd me, when - False man would be content - To pay again - What God and Nature lent. - - An hour-glass, - In which were sands but few, - As he did pass, - He shew'd,—and told me too - Mine end near was;— - And so away he flew. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0244" id="link2H_4_0244"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 236. MEN MIND NO STATE IN SICKNESS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - That flow of gallants which approach - To kiss thy hand from out the coach; - That fleet of lackeys which do run - Before thy swift postilion; - Those strong-hoof'd mules, which we behold - Rein'd in with purple, pearl, and gold, - And shed with silver, prove to be - The drawers of the axle-tree; - Thy wife, thy children, and the state - Of Persian looms and antique plate: - —All these, and more, shall then afford - No joy to thee, their sickly lord. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0245" id="link2H_4_0245"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 237. LIFE IS THE BODY'S LIGHT - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Life is the body's light; which, once declining, - Those crimson clouds i' th' cheeks and lips leave shining:- - Those counter-changed tabbies in the air, - The sun once set, all of one colour are: - So, when death comes, fresh tinctures lose their place, - And dismal darkness then doth smutch the face. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0246" id="link2H_4_0246"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 238. TO THE LADY CREWE, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Why, Madam, will ye longer weep, - Whenas your baby's lull'd asleep? - And, pretty child, feels now no more - Those pains it lately felt before. - - All now is silent; groans are fled; - Your child lies still, yet is not dead, - But rather like a flower hid here, - To spring again another year. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0247" id="link2H_4_0247"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 239. UPON A CHILD THAT DIED - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here she lies, a pretty bud, - Lately made of flesh and blood; - Who as soon fell fast asleep, - As her little eyes did peep. - —Give her strewings, but not stir - The earth, that lightly covers her. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0248" id="link2H_4_0248"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 240. UPON A CHILD - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here a pretty baby lies - Sung asleep with lullabies; - Pray be silent, and not stir - Th' easy earth that covers her. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0249" id="link2H_4_0249"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 241. AN EPITAPH UPON A CHILD - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Virgins promised when I died, - That they would each primrose-tide - Duly, morn and evening, come, - And with flowers dress my tomb. - —Having promised, pay your debts - Maids, and here strew violets. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0250" id="link2H_4_0250"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 242. AN EPITAPH UPON A VIRGIN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here a solemn fast we keep, - While all beauty lies asleep; - Hush'd be all things, no noise here - But the toning of a tear; - Or a sigh of such as bring - Cowslips for her covering. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0251" id="link2H_4_0251"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 243. UPON A MAID - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here she lies, in bed of spice, - Fair as Eve in paradise; - For her beauty, it was such, - Poets could not praise too much. - Virgins come, and in a ring - Her supremest REQUIEM sing; - Then depart, but see ye tread - Lightly, lightly o'er the dead. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0252" id="link2H_4_0252"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 244. THE DIRGE OF JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER: SUNG BY THE VIRGINS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - O thou, the wonder of all days! - O paragon, and pearl of praise! - O Virgin-martyr, ever blest - Above the rest - Of all the maiden-train! We come, - And bring fresh strewings to thy tomb. - - Thus, thus, and thus, we compass round - Thy harmless and unhaunted ground; - And as we sing thy dirge, we will - The daffadil, - And other flowers, lay upon - The altar of our love, thy stone. - - Thou wonder of all maids, liest here, - Of daughters all, the dearest dear; - The eye of virgins; nay, the queen - Of this smooth green, - And all sweet meads, from whence we get - The primrose and the violet. - - Too soon, too dear did Jephthah buy, - By thy sad loss, our liberty; - His was the bond and cov'nant, yet - Thou paid'st the debt; - Lamented Maid! he won the day: - But for the conquest thou didst pay. - - Thy father brought with him along - The olive branch and victor's song; - He slew the Ammonites, we know, - But to thy woe; - And in the purchase of our peace, - The cure was worse than the disease. - - For which obedient zeal of thine, - We offer here, before thy shrine, - Our sighs for storax, tears for wine; - And to make fine - And fresh thy hearse-cloth, we will here - Four times bestrew thee every year. - - Receive, for this thy praise, our tears; - Receive this offering of our hairs; - Receive these crystal vials, fill'd - With tears, distill'd - From teeming eyes; to these we bring, - Each maid, her silver filleting, - - To gild thy tomb; besides, these cauls, - These laces, ribbons, and these falls, - These veils, wherewith we use to hide - The bashful bride, - When we conduct her to her groom; - All, all we lay upon thy tomb. - - No more, no more, since thou art dead, - Shall we e'er bring coy brides to bed; - No more, at yearly festivals, - We, cowslip balls, - Or chains of columbines shall make, - For this or that occasion's sake. - - No, no; our maiden pleasures be - Wrapt in the winding-sheet with thee; - 'Tis we are dead, though not i' th' grave; - Or if we have - One seed of life left, 'tis to keep - A Lent for thee, to fast and weep. - - Sleep in thy peace, thy bed of spice, - And make this place all paradise; - May sweets grow here, and smoke from hence - Fat frankincense; - Let balm and cassia send their scent - From out thy maiden-monument. - - May no wolf howl, or screech owl stir - A wing about thy sepulchre! - No boisterous winds or storms come hither, - To starve or wither - Thy soft sweet earth; but, like a spring, - Love keep it ever flourishing. - - May all shy maids, at wonted hours, - Come forth to strew thy tomb with flowers; - May virgins, when they come to mourn, - Male-incense burn - Upon thine altar; then return, - And leave thee sleeping in thy urn. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0253" id="link2H_4_0253"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 245. THE WIDOWS' TEARS; OR, DIRGE OF DORCAS - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Come pity us, all ye who see - Our harps hung on the willow-tree; - Come pity us, ye passers-by, - Who see or hear poor widows' cry; - Come pity us, and bring your ears - And eyes to pity widows' tears. - CHOR. And when you are come hither, - Then we will keep - A fast, and weep - Our eyes out all together, - - For Tabitha; who dead lies here, - Clean wash'd, and laid out for the bier. - O modest matrons, weep and wail! - For now the corn and wine must fail; - The basket and the bin of bread, - Wherewith so many souls were fed, - CHOR. Stand empty here for ever; - And ah! the poor, - At thy worn door, - Shall be relieved never. - - Woe worth the time, woe worth the day, - That reft us of thee, Tabitha! - For we have lost, with thee, the meal, - The bits, the morsels, and the deal - Of gentle paste and yielding dough, - That thou on widows did bestow. - CHOR. All's gone, and death hath taken - Away from us - Our maundy; thus - Thy widows stand forsaken. - - Ah, Dorcas, Dorcas! now adieu - We bid the cruise and pannier too; - Ay, and the flesh, for and the fish, - Doled to us in that lordly dish. - We take our leaves now of the loom - From whence the housewives' cloth did come; - CHOR. The web affords now nothing; - Thou being dead, - The worsted thread - Is cut, that made us clothing. - - Farewell the flax and reaming wool, - With which thy house was plentiful; - Farewell the coats, the garments, and - The sheets, the rugs, made by thy hand; - Farewell thy fire and thy light, - That ne'er went out by day or night:— - CHOR. No, or thy zeal so speedy, - That found a way, - By peep of day, - To feed and clothe the needy. - - But ah, alas! the almond-bough - And olive-branch is wither'd now; - The wine-press now is ta'en from us, - The saffron and the calamus; - The spice and spikenard hence is gone, - The storax and the cinnamon; - CHOR. The carol of our gladness - Has taken wing; - And our late spring - Of mirth is turn'd to sadness. - - How wise wast thou in all thy ways! - How worthy of respect and praise! - How matron-like didst thou go drest! - How soberly above the rest - Of those that prank it with their plumes, - And jet it with their choice perfumes! - CHOR. Thy vestures were not flowing; - Nor did the street - Accuse thy feet - Of mincing in their going. - - And though thou here liest dead, we see - A deal of beauty yet in thee. - How sweetly shews thy smiling face, - Thy lips with all diffused grace! - Thy hands, though cold, yet spotless, white, - And comely as the chrysolite. - CHOR. Thy belly like a hill is, - Or as a neat - Clean heap of wheat, - All set about with lilies. - - Sleep with thy beauties here, while we - Will shew these garments made by thee; - These were the coats; in these are read - The monuments of Dorcas dead: - These were thy acts, and thou shalt have - These hung as honours o'er thy grave:— - CHOR. And after us, distressed, - Should fame be dumb, - Thy very tomb - Would cry out, Thou art blessed. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0254" id="link2H_4_0254"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 246. UPON HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, MISTRESS ELIZABETH HERRICK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - First, for effusions due unto the dead, - My solemn vows have here accomplished; - Next, how I love thee, that my grief must tell, - Wherein thou liv'st for ever.—Dear, farewell! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0255" id="link2H_4_0255"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 247. TO HIS KINSWOMAN, MISTRESS SUSANNA HERRICK - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - When I consider, dearest, thou dost stay - But here awhile, to languish and decay; - Like to these garden glories, which here be - The flowery-sweet resemblances of thee: - With grief of heart, methinks, I thus do cry, - Would thou hadst ne'er been born, or might'st not die! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0256" id="link2H_4_0256"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 248. ON HIMSELF - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - I'll write no more of love, but now repent - Of all those times that I in it have spent. - I'll write no more of life, but wish 'twas ended, - And that my dust was to the earth commended. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0257" id="link2H_4_0257"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 249. HIS WISH TO PRIVACY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Give me a cell - To dwell, - Where no foot hath - A path; - There will I spend, - And end, - My wearied years - In tears. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0258" id="link2H_4_0258"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 250. TO HIS PATERNAL COUNTRY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - O earth! earth! earth! hear thou my voice, and be - Loving and gentle for to cover me! - Banish'd from thee I live;—ne'er to return, - Unless thou giv'st my small remains an urn. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0259" id="link2H_4_0259"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 251. COCK-CROW - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Bell-man of night, if I about shall go - For to deny my Master, do thou crow! - Thou stop'st Saint Peter in the midst of sin; - Stay me, by crowing, ere I do begin; - Better it is, premonish'd, for to shun - A sin, than fall to weeping when 'tis done. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0260" id="link2H_4_0260"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 252. TO HIS CONSCIENCE - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Can I not sin, but thou wilt be - My private protonotary? - Can I not woo thee, to pass by - A short and sweet iniquity? - I'll cast a mist and cloud upon - My delicate transgression, - So utter dark, as that no eye - Shall see the hugg'd impiety. - Gifts blind the wise, and bribes do please - And wind all other witnesses; - And wilt not thou with gold be tied, - To lay thy pen and ink aside, - That in the mirk and tongueless night, - Wanton I may, and thou not write? - —It will not be: And therefore, now, - For times to come, I'll make this vow; - From aberrations to live free: - So I'll not fear the judge, or thee. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0261" id="link2H_4_0261"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 253. TO HEAVEN - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Open thy gates - To him who weeping waits, - And might come in, - But that held back by sin. - Let mercy be - So kind, to set me free, - And I will straight - Come in, or force the gate. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0262" id="link2H_4_0262"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 254. AN ODE OF THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - In numbers, and but these few, - I sing thy birth, oh JESU! - Thou pretty Baby, born here, - With sup'rabundant scorn here; - Who for thy princely port here, - Hadst for thy place - Of birth, a base - Out-stable for thy court here. - - Instead of neat enclosures - Of interwoven osiers; - Instead of fragrant posies - Of daffadils and roses, - Thy cradle, kingly stranger, - As gospel tells, - Was nothing else, - But, here, a homely manger. - - But we with silks, not cruels, - With sundry precious jewels, - And lily-work will dress thee; - And as we dispossess thee - Of clouts, we'll make a chamber, - Sweet babe, for thee, - Of ivory, - And plaster'd round with amber. - - The Jews, they did disdain thee; - But we will entertain thee - With glories to await here, - Upon thy princely state here, - And more for love than pity: - From year to year - We'll make thee, here, - A free-born of our city. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0263" id="link2H_4_0263"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 255. TO HIS SAVIOUR, A CHILD; A PRESENT, BY A CHILD - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Go, pretty child, and bear this flower - Unto thy little Saviour; - And tell him, by that bud now blown, - He is the Rose of Sharon known. - When thou hast said so, stick it there - Upon his bib or stomacher; - And tell him, for good handsel too, - That thou hast brought a whistle new, - Made of a clean straight oaten reed, - To charm his cries at time of need; - Tell him, for coral, thou hast none, - But if thou hadst, he should have one; - But poor thou art, and known to be - Even as moneyless as he. - Lastly, if thou canst win a kiss - From those melifluous lips of his;— - Then never take a second on, - To spoil the first impression. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0264" id="link2H_4_0264"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 256. GRACE FOR A CHILD - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Here, a little child, I stand, - Heaving up my either hand: - Cold as paddocks though they be, - Here I lift them up to thee, - For a benison to fall - On our meat, and on us all. - Amen. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0265" id="link2H_4_0265"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 257. HIS LITANY, TO THE HOLY SPIRIT - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - In the hour of my distress, - When temptations me oppress, - And when I my sins confess, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When I lie within my bed, - Sick in heart, and sick in head, - And with doubts discomforted, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the house doth sigh and weep, - And the world is drown'd in sleep, - Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the artless doctor sees - No one hope, but of his fees, - And his skill runs on the lees, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When his potion and his pill, - Has, or none, or little skill, - Meet for nothing but to kill, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the passing-bell doth toll, - And the furies in a shoal - Come to fright a parting soul, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the tapers now burn blue, - And the comforters are few, - And that number more than true, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the priest his last hath pray'd, - And I nod to what is said, - 'Cause my speech is now decay'd, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When, God knows, I'm tost about - Either with despair, or doubt; - Yet, before the glass be out, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the tempter me pursu'th - With the sins of all my youth, - And half damns me with untruth, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the flames and hellish cries - Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes, - And all terrors me surprise, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the Judgment is reveal'd, - And that open'd which was seal'd; - When to Thee I have appeal'd, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0266" id="link2H_4_0266"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 258. TO DEATH - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Thou bidst me come away, - And I'll no longer stay, - Than for to shed some tears - For faults of former years; - And to repent some crimes - Done in the present times; - And next, to take a bit - Of bread, and wine with it; - To don my robes of love, - Fit for the place above; - To gird my loins about - With charity throughout; - And so to travel hence - With feet of innocence; - These done, I'll only cry, - 'God, mercy!' and so die. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0267" id="link2H_4_0267"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 259. TO HIS SWEET SAVIOUR - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Night hath no wings to him that cannot sleep; - And Time seems then not for to fly, but creep; - Slowly her chariot drives, as if that she - Had broke her wheel, or crack'd her axletree. - Just so it is with me, who list'ning, pray - The winds to blow the tedious night away, - That I might see the cheerful peeping day. - Sick is my heart; O Saviour! do Thou please - To make my bed soft in my sicknesses; - Lighten my candle, so that I beneath - Sleep not for ever in the vaults of death; - Let me thy voice betimes i' th' morning hear; - Call, and I'll come; say Thou the when and where: - Draw me but first, and after Thee I'll run, - And make no one stop till my race be done. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0268" id="link2H_4_0268"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 260. ETERNITY - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - O years! and age! farewell: - Behold I go, - Where I do know - Infinity to dwell. - - And these mine eyes shall see - All times, how they - Are lost i' th' sea - Of vast eternity:— - - Where never moon shall sway - The stars; but she, - And night, shall be - Drown'd in one endless day. -</pre> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0269" id="link2H_4_0269"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - 261. THE WHITE ISLAND: OR PLACE OF THE BLEST - </h2> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - In this world, the Isle of Dreams, - While we sit by sorrow's streams, - Tears and terrors are our themes, - Reciting: - - But when once from hence we fly, - More and more approaching nigh - Unto young eternity, - Uniting - - In that whiter Island, where - Things are evermore sincere: - Candour here, and lustre there, - Delighting:— - - There no monstrous fancies shall - Out of hell an horror call, - To create, or cause at all - Affrighting. - - There, in calm and cooling sleep, - We our eyes shall never steep, - But eternal watch shall keep, - Attending - - Pleasures such as shall pursue - Me immortalized, and you; - And fresh joys, as never too - Have ending. -</pre> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Selection From The Lyrical Poems Of -Robert Herrick, by Robert Herrick - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LYRICAL POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 1211-h.htm or 1211-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/1/1211/ - -Produced by an Anonymous Voluteer, and David Widger - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - -</pre> - </body> -</html> diff --git a/old/1211.txt b/old/1211.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b72ddfd..0000000 --- a/old/1211.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7021 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Selection From The Lyrical Poems Of -Robert Herrick, by Robert Herrick - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: A Selection From The Lyrical Poems Of Robert Herrick - -Author: Robert Herrick - -Editor: Francis Turner Palgrave - -Posting Date: August 22, 2008 [EBook #1211] -Release Date: February, 1998 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LYRICAL POEMS *** - - - - - - - - - - -FROM THE LYRICAL POEMS OF ROBERT HERRICK - -By Robert Herrick - -Arranged with introduction by Francis Turner Palgrave - - - - -PREFACE - - -ROBERT HERRICK - Born 1591 : Died 1674 - -Those who most admire the Poet from whose many pieces a selection only -is here offered, will, it is probable, feel most strongly (with -the Editor) that excuse is needed for an attempt of an obviously -presumptuous nature. The choice made by any selector invites challenge: -the admission, perhaps, of some poems, the absence of more, will be -censured:--Whilst others may wholly condemn the process, in virtue of an -argument not unfrequently advanced of late, that a writer's judgment on -his own work is to be considered final. And his book to be taken as he -left it, or left altogether; a literal reproduction of the original text -being occasionally included in this requirement. - -If poetry were composed solely for her faithful band of true lovers and -true students, such a facsimile as that last indicated would have claims -irresistible; but if the first and last object of this, as of the other -Fine Arts, may be defined in language borrowed from a different range -of thought, as 'the greatest pleasure of the greatest number,' it is -certain that less stringent forms of reproduction are required and -justified. The great majority of readers cannot bring either leisure or -taste, or information sufficient to take them through a large mass (at -any rate) of ancient verse, not even if it be Spenser's or Milton's. -Manners and modes of speech, again, have changed; and much that was -admissible centuries since, or at least sought admission, has now, by -a law against which protest is idle, lapsed into the indecorous. Even -unaccustomed forms of spelling are an effort to the eye;--a kind of -friction, which diminishes the ease and enjoyment of the reader. - -These hindrances and clogs, of very diverse nature, cannot be -disregarded by Poetry. In common with everything which aims at human -benefit, she must work not only for the 'faithful': she has also the -duty of 'conversion.' Like a messenger from heaven, it is hers to -inspire, to console, to elevate: to convert the world, in a word, to -herself. Every rough place that slackens her footsteps must be made -smooth; nor, in this Art, need there be fear that the way will ever -be vulgarized by too much ease, nor that she will be loved less by the -elect, for being loved more widely. - -Passing from these general considerations, it is true that a selection -framed in conformity with them, especially if one of our older poets be -concerned, parts with a certain portion of the pleasure which poetry may -confer. A writer is most thoroughly to be judged by the whole of what -he printed. A selector inevitably holds too despotic a position over -his author. The frankness of speech which we have abandoned is an -interesting evidence how the tone of manners changes. The poet's own -spelling and punctuation bear, or may bear, a gleam of his personality. -But such last drops of pleasure are the reward of fully-formed taste; -and fully-formed taste cannot be reached without full knowledge. -This, we have noticed, most readers cannot bring. Hence, despite all -drawbacks, an anthology may have its place. A book which tempts many to -read a little, will guide some to that more profound and loving study of -which the result is, the full accomplishment of the poet's mission. - -We have, probably, no poet to whom the reasons here advanced to justify -the invidious task of selection apply more fully and forcibly than to -Herrick. Highly as he is to be rated among our lyrists, no one who reads -through his fourteen hundred pieces can reasonably doubt that whatever -may have been the influences,--wholly unknown to us,--which determined -the contents of his volume, severe taste was not one of them. PECAT -FORTITER:--his exquisite directness and simplicity of speech repeatedly -take such form that the book cannot be offered to a very large number of -those readers who would most enjoy it. The spelling is at once arbitrary -and obsolete. Lastly, the complete reproduction of the original text, -with explanatory notes, edited by Mr Grosart, supplies materials equally -full and interesting for those who may, haply, be allured by this little -book to master one of our most attractive poets in his integrity. - -In Herrick's single own edition of HESPERIDES and NOBLE NUMBERS, but -little arrangement is traceable: nor have we more than a few internal -signs of date in composition. It would hence be unwise to attempt -grouping the poems on a strict plan: and the divisions under which they -are here ranged must be regarded rather as progressive aspects of a -landscape than as territorial demarcations. Pieces bearing on the poet -as such are placed first; then, those vaguely definable as of idyllic -character, 'his girls,' epigrams, poems on natural objects, on character -and life; lastly, a few in his religious vein. For the text, although -reference has been made to the original of 1647-8, Mr Grosart's -excellent reprint has been mainly followed. And to that edition this -book is indebted for many valuable exegetical notes, kindly placed at -the Editor's disposal. But for much fuller elucidation both of words -and allusions, and of the persons mentioned, readers are referred to Mr -Grosart's volumes, which (like the same scholar's 'Sidney' and 'Donne'), -for the first time give Herrick a place among books not printed only, -but edited. - - -Robert Herrick's personal fate is in one point like Shakespeare's. -We know or seem to know them both, through their works, with singular -intimacy. But with this our knowledge substantially ends. No private -letter of Shakespeare, no record of his conversation, no account of the -circumstances in which his writings were published, remains: hardly -any statement how his greatest contemporaries ranked him. A group of -Herrick's youthful letters on business has, indeed, been preserved; -of his life and studies, of his reputation during his own time, almost -nothing. For whatever facts affectionate diligence could now gather. -Readers are referred to Mr Grosart's 'Introduction.' But if, to -supplement the picture, inevitably imperfect, which this gives, we turn -to Herrick's own book, we learn little, biographically, except the -names of a few friends,--that his general sympathies were with the -Royal cause,--and that he wearied in Devonshire for London. So far as is -known, he published but this one volume, and that, when not far from his -sixtieth year. Some pieces may be traced in earlier collections; some -few carry ascertainable dates; the rest lie over a period of near forty -years, during a great portion of which we have no distinct account where -Herrick lived, or what were his employments. We know that he shone with -Ben Jonson and the wits at the nights and suppers of those gods of our -glorious early literature: we may fancy him at Beaumanor, or Houghton, -with his uncle and cousins, keeping a Leicestershire Christmas in the -Manor-house: or, again, in some sweet southern county with Julia and -Anthea, Corinna and Dianeme by his side (familiar then by other names -now never to be remembered), sitting merry, but with just the sadness of -one who hears sweet music, in some meadow among his favourite flowers of -spring-time;--there, or 'where the rose lingers latest.' .... But 'the -dream, the fancy,' is all that Time has spared us. And if it be curious -that his contemporaries should have left so little record of this -delightful poet and (as we should infer from the book) genial-hearted -man, it is not less so that the single first edition should have -satisfied the seventeenth century, and that, before the present, notices -of Herrick should be of the rarest occurrence. - -The artist's 'claim to exist' is, however, always far less to be looked -for in his life, than in his art, upon the secret of which the fullest -biography can tell us little--as little, perhaps, as criticism can -analyse its charm. But there are few of our poets who stand less in need -than Herrick of commentaries of this description,--in which too often we -find little more than a dull or florid prose version of what the author -has given us admirably in verse. Apart from obsolete words or allusions, -Herrick is the best commentator upon Herrick. A few lines only need -therefore here be added, aiming rather to set forth his place in the -sequence of English poets, and especially in regard to those near his -own time, than to point out in detail beauties which he unveils in his -own way, and so most durably and delightfully. - -When our Muses, silent or sick for a century and more after Chaucer's -death, during the years of war and revolution, reappeared, they brought -with them foreign modes of art, ancient and contemporary, in the forms -of which they began to set to music the new material which the age -supplied. At the very outset, indeed, the moralizing philosophy which -has characterized the English from the beginning of our national -history, appears in the writers of the troubled times lying between the -last regnal years of Henry VIII and the first of his great daughter. But -with the happier hopes of Elizabeth's accession, poetry was once more -distinctly followed, not only as a means of conveying thought, but as a -Fine Art. And hence something constrained and artificial blends with -the freshness of the Elizabethan literature. For its great underlying -elements it necessarily reverts to those embodied in our own earlier -poets, Chaucer above all, to whom, after barely one hundred and fifty -years, men looked up as a father of song: but in points of style -and treatment, the poets of the sixteenth century lie under a double -external influence--that of the poets of Greece and Rome (known -either in their own tongues or by translation), and that of the modern -literatures which had themselves undergone the same classical impulse. -Italy was the source most regarded during the more strictly Elizabethan -period; whence its lyrical poetry and the dramatic in a less degree, are -coloured much less by pure and severe classicalism with its closeness -to reality, than by the allegorical and elaborate style, fancy and fact -curiously blended, which had been generated in Italy under the peculiar -and local circumstances of her pilgrimage in literature and art from -the age of Dante onwards. Whilst that influence lasted, such brilliant -pictures of actual life, such directness, movement, and simplicity -in style, as Chaucer often shows, were not yet again attainable: and -although satire, narrative, the poetry of reflection, were meanwhile -not wholly unknown, yet they only appear in force at the close of this -period. And then also the pressure of political and religious strife, -veiled in poetry during the greater part of Elizabeth's actual reign -under the forms of pastoral and allegory, again imperiously breaks -in upon the gracious but somewhat slender and artificial fashions of -England's Helicon: the DIVOM NUMEN, SEDESQUE QUIETAE which, in some -degree the Elizabethan poets offer, disappear; until filling the -central years of the seventeenth century we reach an age as barren for -inspiration of new song as the Wars of the Roses; although the great -survivors from earlier years mask this sterility;--masking also the -revolution in poetical manner and matter which we can see secretly -preparing in the later 'Cavalier' poets, but which was not clearly -recognised before the time of Dryden's culmination. - -In the period here briefly sketched, what is Herrick's portion? His -verse is eminent for sweet and gracious fluency; this is a real note of -the 'Elizabethan' poets. His subjects are frequently pastoral, with a -classical tinge, more or less slight, infused; his language, though not -free from exaggeration, is generally free from intellectual conceits -and distortion, and is eminent throughout for a youthful NAIVETE. Such, -also, are qualities of the latter sixteenth century literature. But if -these characteristics might lead us to call Herrick 'the last of the -Elizabethans,' born out of due time, the differences between him and -them are not less marked. Herrick's directness of speech is accompanied -by an equally clear and simple presentment of his thought; we have, -perhaps, no poet who writes more consistently and earnestly with his -eye upon his subject. An allegorical or mystical treatment is alien -from him: he handles awkwardly the few traditional fables which he -introduces. He is also wholly free from Italianizing tendencies: his -classicalism even is that of an English student,--of a schoolboy, -indeed, if he be compared with a Jonson or a Milton. Herrick's personal -eulogies on his friends and others, further, witness to the extension -of the field of poetry after Elizabeth's age;--in which his enthusiastic -geniality, his quick and easy transitions of subject, have also little -precedent. - -If, again, we compare Herrick's book with those of his fellow-poets -for a hundred years before, very few are the traces which he gives of -imitation, or even of study. During the long interval between Herrick's -entrance on his Cambridge and his clerical careers (an interval all but -wholly obscure to us), it is natural to suppose that he read, at -any rate, his Elizabethan predecessors: yet (beyond those general -similarities already noticed) the Editor can find no positive proof of -familiarity. Compare Herrick with Marlowe, Greene, Breton, Drayton, -or other pretty pastoralists of the HELICON--his general and radical -unlikeness is what strikes us; whilst he is even more remote from the -passionate intensity of Sidney and Shakespeare, the Italian graces of -Spenser, the pensive beauty of PARTHENOPHIL, of DIELLA, of FIDESSA, of -the HECATOMPATHIA and the TEARS OF FANCY. - -Nor is Herrick's resemblance nearer to many of the contemporaries who -have been often grouped with him. He has little in common with -the courtly elegance, the learned polish, which too rarely redeem -commonplace and conceits in Carew, Habington, Lovelace, Cowley, or -Waller. Herrick has his CONCETTI also: but they are in him generally -true plays of fancy; he writes throughout far more naturally than these -lyrists, who, on the other hand, in their unfrequent successes reach a -more complete and classical form of expression. Thus, when Carew speaks -of an aged fair one - - When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her, - Love may return, but lovers never! - -Cowley, of his mistress-- - - Love in her sunny eyes does basking play, - Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair: - -or take Lovelace, 'To Lucasta,' Waller, in his 'Go, lovely rose,'--we -have a finish and condensation which Herrick hardly attains; a literary -quality alien from his 'woodnotes wild,' which may help us to understand -the very small appreciation he met from his age. He had 'a pretty -pastoral gale of fancy,' said Phillips, cursorily dismissing Herrick in -his THEATRUM: not suspecting how inevitably artifice and mannerism, if -fashionable for awhile, pass into forgetfulness, whilst the simple cry -of Nature partake in her permanence. - -Donne and Marvell, stronger men, leave also no mark on our poet. The -elaborate thought, the metrical harshness of the first, could find no -counterpart in Herrick; whilst Marvell, beyond him in imaginative power, -though twisting it too often into contortion and excess, appears to have -been little known as a lyrist then:--as, indeed, his great merits have -never reached anything like due popular recognition. Yet Marvell's -natural description is nearer Herrick's in felicity and insight than any -of the poets named above. Nor, again, do we trace anything of Herbert -or Vaughan in Herrick's NOBLE NUMBERS, which, though unfairly judged if -held insincere, are obviously far distant from the intense conviction, -the depth and inner fervour of his high-toned contemporaries. - -It is among the great dramatists of this age that we find the only -English influences palpably operative on this singularly original -writer. The greatest, in truth, is wholly absent: and it is remarkable -that although Herrick may have joined in the wit-contests and -genialities of the literary clubs in London soon after Shakespeare's -death, and certainly lived in friendship with some who had known him, -yet his name is never mentioned in the poetical commemorations of the -HESPERIDES. In Herrick, echoes from Fletcher's idyllic pieces in the -FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS are faintly traceable; from his songs, 'Hear -what Love can do,' and 'The lusty Spring,' more distinctly. But to Ben -Jonson, whom Herrick addresses as his patron saint in song, and ranks -on the highest list of his friends, his obligations are much more -perceptible. In fact, Jonson's non-dramatic poetry,--the EPIGRAMS and -FOREST of 1616, the UNDERWOODS of 1641, (he died in 1637),--supply -models, generally admirable in point of art, though of very unequal -merit in their execution and contents, of the principal forms under -which we may range Herrick's HESPERIDES. The graceful love-song, the -celebration of feasts and wit, the encomia of friends, the epigram -as then understood, are all here represented: even Herrick's vein in -natural description is prefigured in the odes to Penshurst and Sir -Robert Wroth, of 1616. And it is in the religious pieces of the NOBLE -NUMBERS, for which Jonson afforded the least copious precedents, that, -as a rule, Herrick is least successful. - -Even if we had not the verses on his own book, (the most noteworthy -of which are here printed as PREFATORY,) in proof that Herrick was no -careless singer, but a true artist, working with conscious knowledge of -his art, we might have inferred the fact from the choice of Jonson as -his model. That great poet, as Clarendon justly remarked, had 'judgment -to order and govern fancy, rather than excess of fancy: his productions -being slow and upon deliberation.' No writer could be better fitted for -the guidance of one so fancy-free as Herrick; to whom the curb, in the -old phrase, was more needful than the spur, and whose invention, more -fertile and varied than Jonson's, was ready at once to fill up -the moulds of form provided. He does this with a lively facility, -contrasting much with the evidence of labour in his master's work. -Slowness and deliberation are the last qualities suggested by Herrick. -Yet it may be doubted whether the volatile ease, the effortless grace, -the wild bird-like fluency with which he - - Scatters his loose notes in the waste of air - -are not, in truth, the results of exquisite art working in cooperation -with the gifts of nature. The various readings which our few remaining -manuscripts or printed versions have supplied to Mr Grosart's -'Introduction,' attest the minute and curious care with which Herrick -polished and strengthened his own work: his airy facility, his seemingly -spontaneous melodies, as with Shelley--his counterpart in pure lyrical -art within this century--were earned by conscious labour; perfect -freedom was begotten of perfect art;--nor, indeed, have excellence and -permanence any other parent. - -With the error that regards Herrick as a careless singer is closely -twined that which ranks him in the school of that master of elegant -pettiness who has usurped and abused the name Anacreon; as a mere -light-hearted writer of pastorals, a gay and frivolous Renaissance -amourist. He has indeed those elements: but with them is joined the -seriousness of an age which knew that the light mask of classicalism and -bucolic allegory could be worn only as an ornament, and that life held -much deeper and further-reaching issues than were visible to the narrow -horizons within which Horace or Martial circumscribed the range of their -art. Between the most intensely poetical, and so, greatest, among the -French poets of this century, and Herrick, are many points of likeness. -He too, with Alfred de Musset, might have said - - Quoi que nous puissions faire, - Je souffre; il est trop tard; le monde s'est fait vieux. - Une immense esperance a traverse la terre; - Malgre nous vers le ciel il faut lever les yeux. - -Indeed, Herrick's deepest debt to ancient literature lies not in the -models which he directly imitated, nor in the Anacreontic tone which -with singular felicity he has often taken. These are common to many -writers with him:--nor will he who cannot learn more from the great -ancient world ever rank among poets of high order, or enter the -innermost sanctuary of art. But, the power to describe men and things as -the poet sees them with simple sincerity, insight, and grace: to paint -scenes and imaginations as perfect organic wholes;--carrying with it the -gift to clothe each picture, as if by unerring instinct, in fit metrical -form, giving to each its own music; beginning without affectation, -and rounding off without effort;--the power, in a word, to leave -simplicity, sanity, and beauty as the last impressions lingering on our -minds, these gifts are at once the true bequest of classicalism, and the -reason why (until modern effort equals them) the study of that Hellenic -and Latin poetry in which these gifts are eminent above all other -literatures yet created, must be essential. And it is success in -precisely these excellences which is here claimed for Herrick. He is -classical in the great and eternal sense of the phrase: and much more -so, probably, than he was himself aware of. No poet in fact is so far -from dwelling in a past or foreign world: it is the England, if not of -1648, at least of his youth, in which he lives and moves and loves: his -Bucolics show no trace of Sicily: his Anthea and Julia wear no 'buckles -of the purest gold,' nor have anything about them foreign to Middlesex -or Devon. Herrick's imagination has no far horizons: like Burns and -Crabbe fifty years since, or Barnes (that exquisite and neglected -pastoralist of fair Dorset, perfect within his narrower range as -Herrick) to-day, it is his own native land only which he sees and -paints: even the fairy world in which, at whatever inevitable interval, -he is second to Shakespeare, is pure English; or rather, his elves live -in an elfin county of their own, and are all but severed from humanity. -Within that greater circle of Shakespeare, where Oberon and Ariel and -their fellows move, aiding or injuring mankind, and reflecting human -life in a kind of unconscious parody, Herrick cannot walk: and it may -have been due to his good sense and true feeling for art, that here, -where resemblance might have seemed probable, he borrows nothing from -MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM or TEMPEST. if we are moved by the wider range -of Byron's or Shelley's sympathies, there is a charm, also, in this -sweet insularity of Herrick; a narrowness perhaps, yet carrying with -it a healthful reality absent from the vapid and artificial -'cosmopolitanism' that did such wrong on Goethe's genius. If he has -not the exotic blooms and strange odours which poets who derive from -literature show in their conservatories, Herrick has the fresh breeze -and thyme-bed fragrance of open moorland, the grace and greenery of -English meadows: with Homer and Dante, he too shares the strength and -inspiration which come from touch of a man's native soil. - -What has been here sketched is not planned so much as a criticism in -form on Herrick's poetry as an attempt to seize his relations to his -predecessors and contemporaries. If we now tentatively inquire what -place may be assigned to him in our literature at large, Herrick has no -single lyric to show equal, in pomp of music, brilliancy of diction, or -elevation of sentiment to some which Spenser before, Milton in his own -time, Dryden and Gray, Wordsworth and Shelley, since have given us. -Nor has he, as already noticed, the peculiar finish and reserve (if -the phrase may be allowed) traceable, though rarely, in Ben Jonson and -others of the seventeenth century. He does not want passion; yet -his passion wants concentration: it is too ready, also, to dwell on -externals: imagination with him generally appears clothed in forms -of fancy. Among his contemporaries, take Crashaw's 'Wishes': Sir J. -Beaumont's elegy on his child Gervase: take Bishop King's 'Surrender': - - My once-dear Love!--hapless, that I no more - Must call thee so. . . . The rich affection's store - That fed our hopes, lies now exhaust and spent, - Like sums of treasure unto bankrupts lent:-- - We that did nothing study but the way - To love each other, with which thoughts the day - Rose with delight to us, and with them set, - Must learn the hateful art, how to forget! - --Fold back our arms, take home our fruitless loves, - That must new fortunes try, like turtle doves - Dislodged from their haunts. We must in tears - Unwind a love knit up in many years. - In this one kiss I here surrender thee - Back to thyself: so thou again art free:-- - -take eight lines by some old unknown Northern singer: - - When I think on the happy days - I spent wi' you, my dearie, - And now what lands between us lie, - How can I be but eerie! - - How slow ye move, ye heavy hours, - As ye were wae and weary! - It was na sae ye glinted by - When I was wi' my dearie:-- - ---O! there is an intensity here, a note of passion beyond the deepest of -Herrick's. This tone (whether from temperament or circumstance or -scheme of art), is wanting to the HESPERIDES and NOBLE NUMBERS: nor does -Herrick's lyre, sweet and varied as it is, own that purple chord, -that more inwoven harmony, possessed by poets of greater depth and -splendour,--by Shakespeare and Milton often, by Spenser more rarely. -But if we put aside these 'greater gods' of song, with Sidney,--in the -Editor's judgment Herrick's mastery (to use a brief expression), both -over Nature and over Art, clearly assigns to him the first place as -lyrical poet, in the strict and pure sense of the phrase, among all -who flourished during the interval between Henry V and a hundred years -since. Single pieces of equal, a few of higher, quality, we have, -indeed, meanwhile received, not only from the master-singers who did not -confine themselves to the Lyric, but from many poets--some the unknown -contributors to our early anthologies, then Jonson, Marvell, Waller, -Collins, and others, with whom we reach the beginning of the wider sweep -which lyrical poetry has since taken. Yet, looking at the whole work, -not at the selected jewels, of this great and noble multitude, Herrick, -as lyrical poet strictly, offers us by far the most homogeneous, -attractive, and varied treasury. No one else among lyrists within the -period defined, has such unfailing freshness: so much variety within -the sphere prescribed to himself: such closeness to nature, whether -in description or in feeling: such easy fitness in language: melody so -unforced and delightful. His dull pages are much less frequent: he has -more lines, in his own phrase, 'born of the royal blood': the - - Inflata rore non Achaico verba - -are rarer with him: although superficially mannered, nature is so much -nearer to him, that far fewer of his pieces have lost vitality and -interest through adherence to forms of feeling or fashions of thought -now obsolete. A Roman contemporary is described by the younger Pliny in -words very appropriate to Herrick: who, in fact, if Greek in respect -of his method and style, in the contents of his poetry displays the -'frankness of nature and vivid sense of life' which criticism assigns -as marks of the great Roman poets. FACIT VERSUS, QUALES CATULLUS AUT -CALVUS. QUANTUM ILLIS LEPORIS, DULCEDINIS, AMARITUDINIS AMORIS! INSERIT -SANE, SED DATA OPERA, MOLLIBUS LENIBUSQUE DURIUSCULOS QUOSDAM; ET -HOC, QUASI CATULLUS AUT CALVUS. Many pieces have been, here refused -admittance, whether from coarseness of phrase or inferior value: yet -these are rarely defective in the lyrical art, which, throughout the -writer's work, is so simple and easy as almost to escape notice through -its very excellence. In one word, Herrick, in a rare and special sense, -is unique. - -To these qualities we may, perhaps, ascribe the singular neglect which, -so far as we may infer, he met with in his own age, and certainly in -the century following. For the men of the Restoration period he was -too natural, too purely poetical: he had not the learned polish, the -political allusion, the tone of the city, the didactic turn, which were -then and onwards demanded from poetry. In the next age, no tradition -consecrated his name; whilst writers of a hundred years before were then -too remote for familiarity, and not remote enough for reverence. Moving -on to our own time, when some justice has at length been conceded to -him, Herrick has to meet the great rivalry of the poets who, from Burns -and Cowper to Tennyson, have widened and deepened the lyrical sphere, -making it at once on the one hand more intensely personal, on the other, -more free and picturesque in the range of problems dealt with: whilst at -the same time new and richer lyrical forms, harmonies more intricate and -seven-fold, have been created by them, as in Hellas during her golden -age of song, to embody ideas and emotions unknown or unexpressed under -Tudors and Stuarts. To this latter superiority Herrick would, doubtless, -have bowed, as he bowed before Ben Jonson's genius. 'Rural ditties,' and -'oaten flute' cannot bear the competition of the full modern orchestra. -Yet this author need not fear! That exquisite: and lofty pleasure which -it is the first and the last aim of all true art to give, must, by its -own nature, be lasting also. As the eyesight fluctuates, and gives the -advantage to different colours in turn, so to the varying moods of the -mind the same beauty does not always seem equally beautiful. Thus from -the 'purple light' of our later poetry there are hours in which we -may look to the daffodil and rose-tints of Herrick's old Arcadia, for -refreshment and delight. And the pleasure which he gives is as eminently -wholesome as pleasurable. Like the holy river of Virgil, to the souls -who drink of him, Herrick offers 'securos latices.' He is conspicuously -free from many of the maladies incident to his art. Here is no -overstrain, no spasmodic cry, so wire-drawn analysis or sensational -rhetoric, no music without sense, no mere second-hand literary -inspiration, no mannered archaism:--above all, no sickly sweetness, no -subtle, unhealthy affectation. Throughout his work, whether when it is -strong, or in the less worthy portions, sanity, sincerity, simplicity, -lucidity, are everywhere the characteristics of Herrick: in these, not -in his pretty Pagan masquerade, he shows the note,--the only genuine -note,--of Hellenic descent. Hence, through whatever changes and fashions -poetry may pass, her true lovers he is likely to 'please now, and please -for long.' His verse, in the words of a poet greater than himself, is of -that quality which 'adds sunlight to daylight'; which is able to 'make -the happy happier.' He will, it may be hoped, carry to the many Englands -across the seas, east and west, pictures of English life exquisite -in truth and grace:--to the more fortunate inhabitants (as they must -perforce hold themselves!) of the old country, her image, as she was two -centuries since, will live in the 'golden apples' of the West, offered -to us by this sweet singer of Devonshire. We have greater poets, not a -few; none more faithful to nature as he saw her, none more perfect in -his art;--none, more companionable:-- - -F. T. P. - -Dec. 1876 - - - - -C H R Y S O M E L A - -A SELECTION FROM THE LYRICAL POEMS OF ROBERT HERRICK - - - - -PREFATORY - - - - -1. THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK - - I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, - Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers; - I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, - Of bride-grooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. - I write of Youth, of Love;--and have access - By these, to sing of cleanly wantonness; - I sing of dews, of rains, and, piece by piece, - Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris. - I sing of times trans-shifting; and I write - How roses first came red, and lilies white. - I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing - The court of Mab, and of the Fairy King. - I write of Hell; I sing, and ever shall - Of Heaven,--and hope to have it after all. - - - - -2. TO HIS MUSE - - Whither, mad maiden, wilt thou roam? - Far safer 'twere to stay at home; - Where thou mayst sit, and piping, please - The poor and private cottages. - Since cotes and hamlets best agree - With this thy meaner minstrelsy. - There with the reed thou mayst express - The shepherd's fleecy happiness; - And with thy Eclogues intermix: - Some smooth and harmless Bucolics. - There, on a hillock, thou mayst sing - Unto a handsome shepherdling; - Or to a girl, that keeps the neat, - With breath more sweet than violet. - There, there, perhaps such lines as these - May take the simple villages; - But for the court, the country wit - Is despicable unto it. - Stay then at home, and do not go - Or fly abroad to seek for woe; - Contempts in courts and cities dwell - No critic haunts the poor man's cell, - Where thou mayst hear thine own lines read - By no one tongue there censured. - That man's unwise will search for ill, - And may prevent it, sitting still. - - - - -3. WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ - - In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse - The holy incantation of a verse; - But when that men have both well drunk, and fed, - Let my enchantments then be sung or read. - When laurel spirts i' th' fire, and when the hearth - Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth; - When up the Thyrse is raised, and when the sound - Of sacred orgies, flies A round, A round; - When the rose reigns, and locks with ointments shine, - Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine. - - - - -4. TO HIS BOOK - - Make haste away, and let one be - A friendly patron unto thee; - Lest, rapt from hence, I see thee lie - Torn for the use of pastery; - Or see thy injured leaves serve well - To make loose gowns for mackarel; - Or see the grocers, in a trice, - Make hoods of thee to serve out spice. - - - - -5. TO HIS BOOK - - Take mine advice, and go not near - Those faces, sour as vinegar; - For these, and nobler numbers, can - Ne'er please the supercilious man. - - - - -6. TO HIS BOOK - - Be bold, my Book, nor be abash'd, or fear - The cutting thumb-nail, or the brow severe; - But by the Muses swear, all here is good, - If but well read, or ill read, understood. - - - - -7. TO MISTRESS KATHARINE BRADSHAW, THE LOVELY, THAT CROWNED HIM WITH LAUREL - - My Muse in meads has spent her many hours - Sitting, and sorting several sorts of flowers, - To make for others garlands; and to set - On many a head here, many a coronet. - But amongst all encircled here, not one - Gave her a day of coronation; - Till you, sweet mistress, came and interwove - A laurel for her, ever young as Love. - You first of all crown'd her; she must, of due, - Render for that, a crown of life to you. - - - - -8. TO HIS VERSES - - What will ye, my poor orphans, do, - When I must leave the world and you; - Who'll give ye then a sheltering shed, - Or credit ye, when I am dead? - Who'll let ye by their fire sit, - Although ye have a stock of wit, - Already coin'd to pay for it? - --I cannot tell: unless there be - Some race of old humanity - Left, of the large heart and long hand, - Alive, as noble Westmorland; - Or gallant Newark; which brave two - May fost'ring fathers be to you. - If not, expect to be no less - Ill used, than babes left fatherless. - - - - -9. NOT EVERY DAY FIT FOR VERSE - - 'Tis not ev'ry day that I - Fitted am to prophesy: - No, but when the spirit fills - The fantastic pannicles, - Full of fire, then I write - As the Godhead doth indite. - Thus enraged, my lines are hurl'd, - Like the Sibyl's, through the world: - Look how next the holy fire - Either slakes, or doth retire; - So the fancy cools:--till when - That brave spirit comes again. - - - - -10. HIS PRAYER TO BEN JONSON - - When I a verse shall make, - Know I have pray'd thee, - For old religion's sake, - Saint Ben, to aid me - - Make the way smooth for me, - When, I, thy Herrick, - Honouring thee on my knee - Offer my Lyric. - - Candles I'll give to thee, - And a new altar; - And thou, Saint Ben, shalt be - Writ in my psalter. - - - - -11. HIS REQUEST TO JULIA - - Julia, if I chance to die - Ere I print my poetry, - I most humbly thee desire - To commit it to the fire: - Better 'twere my book were dead, - Than to live not perfected. - - - - -12. TO HIS BOOK - - Go thou forth, my book, though late, - Yet be timely fortunate. - It may chance good luck may send - Thee a kinsman or a friend, - That may harbour thee, when I - With my fates neglected lie. - If thou know'st not where to dwell, - See, the fire's by.--Farewell! - - - - -13. HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR - - Only a little more - I have to write: - Then I'll give o'er, - And bid the world good-night. - - 'Tis but a flying minute, - That I must stay, - Or linger in it: - And then I must away. - - O Time, that cut'st down all, - And scarce leav'st here - Memorial - Of any men that were; - - --How many lie forgot - In vaults beneath, - And piece-meal rot - Without a fame in death? - - Behold this living stone - I rear for me, - Ne'er to be thrown - Down, envious Time, by thee. - - Pillars let some set up - If so they please; - Here is my hope, - And my Pyramides. - - - - -14. TO HIS BOOK - - If hap it must, that I must see thee lie - Absyrtus-like, all torn confusedly; - With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart, - I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part; - And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chest - With spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest. - - - - -15. UPON HIMSELF - - Thou shalt not all die; for while Love's fire shines - Upon his altar, men shall read thy lines; - And learn'd musicians shall, to honour Herrick's - Fame, and his name, both set and sing his lyrics. - - To his book's end this last line he'd have placed:-- - Jocund his Muse was, but his Life was chaste. - - - - - -IDYLLICA - - - - -16. THE COUNTRY LIFE: - - TO THE HONOURED MR ENDYMION PORTER, - GROOM OF THE BED-CHAMBER TO HIS MAJESTY - - Sweet country life, to such unknown, - Whose lives are others', not their own! - But serving courts and cities, be - Less happy, less enjoying thee. - Thou never plough'st the ocean's foam - To seek and bring rough pepper home: - Nor to the Eastern Ind dost rove - To bring from thence the scorched clove: - Nor, with the loss of thy loved rest, - Bring'st home the ingot from the West. - No, thy ambition's master-piece - Flies no thought higher than a fleece: - Or how to pay thy hinds, and clear - All scores: and so to end the year: - But walk'st about thine own dear bounds, - Not envying others' larger grounds: - For well thou know'st, 'tis not th' extent - Of land makes life, but sweet content. - When now the cock (the ploughman's horn) - Calls forth the lily-wristed morn; - Then to thy corn-fields thou dost go, - Which though well soil'd, yet thou dost know - That the best compost for the lands - Is the wise master's feet, and hands. - There at the plough thou find'st thy team, - With a hind whistling there to them: - And cheer'st them up, by singing how - The kingdom's portion is the plough. - This done, then to th' enamell'd meads - Thou go'st; and as thy foot there treads, - Thou seest a present God-like power - Imprinted in each herb and flower: - And smell'st the breath of great-eyed kine, - Sweet as the blossoms of the vine. - Here thou behold'st thy large sleek neat - Unto the dew-laps up in meat: - And, as thou look'st, the wanton steer, - The heifer, cow, and ox draw near, - To make a pleasing pastime there. - These seen, thou go'st to view thy flocks - Of sheep, safe from the wolf and fox, - And find'st their bellies there as full - Of short sweet grass, as backs with wool: - And leav'st them, as they feed and fill, - A shepherd piping on a hill. - - For sports, for pageantry, and plays, - Thou hast thy eves, and holydays: - On which the young men and maids meet, - To exercise their dancing feet: - Tripping the comely country Round, - With daffadils and daisies crown'd. - Thy wakes, thy quintels, here thou hast, - Thy May-poles too with garlands graced; - Thy Morris-dance; thy Whitsun-ale; - Thy shearing-feast, which never fail. - Thy harvest home; thy wassail bowl, - That's toss'd up after Fox i' th' hole: - Thy mummeries; thy Twelve-tide kings - And queens; thy Christmas revellings: - Thy nut-brown mirth, thy russet wit, - And no man pays too dear for it.-- - To these, thou hast thy times to go - And trace the hare i' th' treacherous snow: - Thy witty wiles to draw, and get - The lark into the trammel net: - Thou hast thy cockrood, and thy glade - To take the precious pheasant made: - Thy lime-twigs, snares, and pit-falls then - To catch the pilfering birds, not men. - - --O happy life! if that their good - The husbandmen but understood! - Who all the day themselves do please, - And younglings, with such sports as these: - And lying down, have nought t' affright - Sweet Sleep, that makes more short the night. - CAETERA DESUNT-- - - - - -17. TO PHILLIS, TO LOVE AND LIVE WITH HIM - - Live, live with me, and thou shalt see - The pleasures I'll prepare for thee: - What sweets the country can afford - Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board. - The soft sweet moss shall be thy bed, - With crawling woodbine over-spread: - By which the silver-shedding streams - Shall gently melt thee into dreams. - Thy clothing next, shall be a gown - Made of the fleeces' purest down. - The tongues of kids shall be thy meat; - Their milk thy drink; and thou shalt eat - The paste of filberts for thy bread - With cream of cowslips buttered: - Thy feasting-table shall be hills - With daisies spread, and daffadils; - Where thou shalt sit, and Red-breast by, - For meat, shall give thee melody. - I'll give thee chains and carcanets - Of primroses and violets. - A bag and bottle thou shalt have, - That richly wrought, and this as brave; - So that as either shall express - The wearer's no mean shepherdess. - At shearing-times, and yearly wakes, - When Themilis his pastime makes, - There thou shalt be; and be the wit, - Nay more, the feast, and grace of it. - On holydays, when virgins meet - To dance the heys with nimble feet, - Thou shalt come forth, and then appear - The Queen of Roses for that year. - And having danced ('bove all the best) - Carry the garland from the rest, - In wicker-baskets maids shall bring - To thee, my dearest shepherdling, - The blushing apple, bashful pear, - And shame-faced plum, all simp'ring there. - Walk in the groves, and thou shalt find - The name of Phillis in the rind - Of every straight and smooth-skin tree; - Where kissing that, I'll twice kiss thee. - To thee a sheep-hook I will send, - Be-prank'd with ribbands, to this end, - This, this alluring hook might be - Less for to catch a sheep, than me. - Thou shalt have possets, wassails fine, - Not made of ale, but spiced wine; - To make thy maids and self free mirth, - All sitting near the glitt'ring hearth. - Thou shalt have ribbands, roses, rings, - Gloves, garters, stockings, shoes, and strings - Of winning colours, that shall move - Others to lust, but me to love. - --These, nay, and more, thine own shall be, - If thou wilt love, and live with me. - - - - -18. THE WASSAIL - - Give way, give way, ye gates, and win - An easy blessing to your bin - And basket, by our entering in. - - May both with manchet stand replete; - Your larders, too, so hung with meat, - That though a thousand, thousand eat, - - Yet, ere twelve moons shall whirl about - Their silv'ry spheres, there's none may doubt - But more's sent in than was served out. - - Next, may your dairies prosper so, - As that your pans no ebb may know; - But if they do, the more to flow, - - Like to a solemn sober stream, - Bank'd all with lilies, and the cream - Of sweetest cowslips filling them. - - Then may your plants be press'd with fruit, - Nor bee or hive you have be mute, - But sweetly sounding like a lute. - - Last, may your harrows, shares, and ploughs, - Your stacks, your stocks, your sweetest mows, - All prosper by your virgin-vows. - - --Alas! we bless, but see none here, - That brings us either ale or beer; - In a dry-house all things are near. - - Let's leave a longer time to wait, - Where rust and cobwebs bind the gate; - And all live here with needy fate; - - Where chimneys do for ever weep - For want of warmth, and stomachs keep - With noise the servants' eyes from sleep. - - It is in vain to sing, or stay - Our free feet here, but we'll away: - Yet to the Lares this we'll say: - - 'The time will come when you'll be sad, - 'And reckon this for fortune bad, - 'T'ave lost the good ye might have had.' - - - - -19. THE FAIRIES - - If ye will with Mab find grace, - Set each platter in his place; - Rake the fire up, and get - Water in, ere sun be set. - Wash your pails and cleanse your dairies, - Sluts are loathsome to the fairies; - Sweep your house; Who doth not so, - Mab will pinch her by the toe. - - - - -20. CEREMONY UPON CANDLEMAS EVE - - Down with the rosemary, and so - Down with the bays and misletoe; - Down with the holly, ivy, all - Wherewith ye dress'd the Christmas hall; - That so the superstitious find - No one least branch there left behind; - For look, how many leaves there be - Neglected there, maids, trust to me, - So many goblins you shall see. - - - - -21. CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE - - Down with the rosemary and bays, - Down with the misletoe; - Instead of holly, now up-raise - The greener box, for show. - - The holly hitherto did sway; - Let box now domineer, - Until the dancing Easter-day, - Or Easter's eve appear. - - Then youthful box, which now hath grace - Your houses to renew, - Grown old, surrender must his place - Unto the crisped yew. - - When yew is out, then birch comes in, - And many flowers beside, - Both of a fresh and fragrant kin, - To honour Whitsuntide. - - Green rushes then, and sweetest bents, - With cooler oaken boughs, - Come in for comely ornaments, - To re-adorn the house. - Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold; - New things succeed, as former things grow old. - - - - -22. THE CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS DAY - - Kindle the Christmas brand, and then - Till sunset let it burn; - Which quench'd, then lay it up again, - Till Christmas next return. - - Part must be kept, wherewith to teend - The Christmas log next year; - And where 'tis safely kept, the fiend - Can do no mischief there. - - - - -23. FAREWELL FROST, OR WELCOME SPRING - - Fled are the frosts, and now the fields appear - Reclothed in fresh and verdant diaper; - Thaw'd are the snows; and now the lusty Spring - Gives to each mead a neat enamelling; - The palms put forth their gems, and every tree - Now swaggers in her leafy gallantry. - The while the Daulian minstrel sweetly sings - With warbling notes her Terean sufferings. - --What gentle winds perspire! as if here - Never had been the northern plunderer - To strip the trees and fields, to their distress, - Leaving them to a pitied nakedness. - And look how when a frantic storm doth tear - A stubborn oak or holm, long growing there,-- - But lull'd to calmness, then succeeds a breeze - That scarcely stirs the nodding leaves of trees; - So when this war, which tempest-like doth spoil - Our salt, our corn, our honey, wine, and oil, - Falls to a temper, and doth mildly cast - His inconsiderate frenzy off, at last, - The gentle dove may, when these turmoils cease, - Bring in her bill, once more, the branch of Peace. - - - - -24. TO THE MAIDS, TO WALK ABROAD - - Come, sit we under yonder tree, - Where merry as the maids we'll be; - And as on primroses we sit, - We'll venture, if we can, at wit; - If not, at draw-gloves we will play, - So spend some minutes of the day; - Or else spin out the thread of sands, - Playing at questions and commands: - Or tell what strange tricks Love can do, - By quickly making one of two. - Thus we will sit and talk, but tell - No cruel truths of Philomel, - Or Phillis, whom hard fate forced on - To kill herself for Demophon; - But fables we'll relate; how Jove - Put on all shapes to get a Love; - As now a satyr, then a swan, - A bull but then, and now a man. - Next, we will act how young men woo, - And sigh and kiss as lovers do; - And talk of brides; and who shall make - That wedding-smock, this bridal-cake, - That dress, this sprig, that leaf, this vine, - That smooth and silken columbine. - This done, we'll draw lots who shall buy - And gild the bays and rosemary; - What posies for our wedding rings; - What gloves we'll give, and ribbonings; - And smiling at our selves, decree - Who then the joining priest shall be; - What short sweet prayers shall be said, - And how the posset shall be made - With cream of lilies, not of kine, - And maiden's-blush for spiced wine. - Thus having talk'd, we'll next commend - A kiss to each, and so we'll end. - - - - -25. CORINA'S GOING A MAYING - - Get up, get up for shame! the blooming morn - Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. - See how Aurora throws her fair - Fresh-quilted colours through the air: - Get up, sweet-slug-a-bed, and see - The dew bespangling herb and tree. - Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east, - Above an hour since; yet you not drest, - Nay! not so much as out of bed? - When all the birds have matins said, - And sung their thankful hymns: 'tis sin, - Nay, profanation, to keep in,-- - Whenas a thousand virgins on this day, - Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May. - - Rise; and put on your foliage, and be seen - To come forth, like the Spring-time, fresh and green, - And sweet as Flora. Take no care - For jewels for your gown, or hair: - Fear not; the leaves will strew - Gems in abundance upon you: - Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, - Against you come, some orient pearls unwept: - Come, and receive them while the light - Hangs on the dew-locks of the night: - And Titan on the eastern hill - Retires himself, or else stands still - Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying: - Few beads are best, when once we go a Maying. - - Come, my Corinna, come; and coming, mark - How each field turns a street; each street a park - Made green, and trimm'd with trees: see how - Devotion gives each house a bough - Or branch: each porch, each door, ere this, - An ark, a tabernacle is - Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove; - As if here were those cooler shades of love. - Can such delights be in the street, - And open fields, and we not see't? - Come, we'll abroad: and let's obey - The proclamation made for May: - And sin no more, as we have done, by staying; - But, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying. - - There's not a budding boy, or girl, this day, - But is got up, and gone to bring in May. - A deal of youth, ere this, is come - Back, and with white-thorn laden home. - Some have dispatch'd their cakes and cream, - Before that we have left to dream: - And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth, - And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth: - Many a green-gown has been given; - Many a kiss, both odd and even: - Many a glance, too, has been sent - From out the eye, love's firmament: - Many a jest told of the keys betraying - This night, and locks pick'd:--yet we're not a Maying. - - --Come, let us go, while we are in our prime; - And take the harmless folly of the time! - We shall grow old apace, and die - Before we know our liberty. - Our life is short; and our days run - As fast away as does the sun:-- - And as a vapour, or a drop of rain - Once lost, can ne'er be found again: - So when or you or I are made - A fable, song, or fleeting shade; - All love, all liking, all delight - Lies drown'd with us in endless night. - --Then while time serves, and we are but decaying, - Come, my Corinna! come, let's go a Maying. - - - - -26. THE MAYPOLE - - The May-pole is up, - Now give me the cup; - I'll drink to the garlands around it; - But first unto those - Whose hands did compose - The glory of flowers that crown'd it. - - A health to my girls, - Whose husbands may earls - Or lords be, granting my wishes, - And when that ye wed - To the bridal bed, - Then multiply all, like to fishes. - - - - -27. THE WAKE - - Come, Anthea, let us two - Go to feast, as others do: - Tarts and custards, creams and cakes, - Are the junkets still at wakes; - Unto which the tribes resort, - Where the business is the sport: - Morris-dancers thou shalt see, - Marian, too, in pageantry; - And a mimic to devise - Many grinning properties. - Players there will be, and those - Base in action as in clothes; - Yet with strutting they will please - The incurious villages. - Near the dying of the day - There will be a cudgel-play, - Where a coxcomb will be broke, - Ere a good word can be spoke: - But the anger ends all here, - Drench'd in ale, or drown'd in beer. - --Happy rusticks! best content - With the cheapest merriment; - And possess no other fear, - Than to want the Wake next year. - - - - -28. THE HOCK-CART, OR HARVEST HOME: - TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE MILDMAY, EARL OF WESTMORLAND - - Come, Sons of Summer, by whose toil - We are the lords of wine and oil: - By whose tough labours, and rough hands, - We rip up first, then reap our lands. - Crown'd with the ears of corn, now come, - And, to the pipe, sing Harvest Home. - - Come forth, my lord, and see the cart - Drest up with all the country art. - See, here a maukin, there a sheet, - As spotless pure, as it is sweet: - The horses, mares, and frisking fillies, - Clad, all, in linen white as lilies. - The harvest swains and wenches bound - For joy, to see the Hock-Cart crown'd. - About the cart, hear, how the rout - Of rural younglings raise the shout; - Pressing before, some coming after, - Those with a shout, and these with laughter. - Some bless the cart; some kiss the sheaves; - Some prank them up with oaken leaves: - Some cross the fill-horse; some with great - Devotion, stroke the home-borne wheat: - While other rustics, less attent - To prayers, than to merriment, - Run after with their breeches rent. - --Well, on, brave boys, to your lord's hearth, - Glitt'ring with fire; where, for your mirth, - Ye shall see first the large and chief - Foundation of your feast, fat beef; - With upper stories, mutton, veal - And bacon, which makes full the meal, - With sev'ral dishes standing by, - As here a custard, there a pie, - And here, all tempting frumenty. - And for to make the merry cheer, - If smirking wine be wanting here, - There's that which drowns all care, stout beer: - Which freely drink to your lord's health - Then to the plough, the common-wealth; - Next to your flails, your fanes, your vats; - Then to the maids with wheaten hats: - To the rough sickle, and crookt scythe,-- - Drink, frolic, boys, till all be blythe. - Feed, and grow fat; and as ye eat, - Be mindful, that the lab'ring neat, - As you, may have their fill of meat. - And know, besides, ye must revoke - The patient ox unto the yoke, - And all go back unto the plough - And harrow, though they're hang'd up now. - And, you must know, your lord's word's true, - Feed him ye must, whose food fills you; - And that this pleasure is like rain, - Not sent ye for to drown your pain, - But for to make it spring again. - - - - -29. THE BRIDE-CAKE - - This day, my Julia, thou must make - For Mistress Bride the wedding-cake: - Knead but the dough, and it will be - To paste of almonds turn'd by thee; - Or kiss it thou but once or twice, - And for the bride-cake there'll be spice. - - - - -30. THE OLD WIVES' PRAYER - - Holy-Rood, come forth and shield - Us i' th' city and the field; - Safely guard us, now and aye, - From the blast that burns by day; - And those sounds that us affright - In the dead of dampish night; - Drive all hurtful fiends us fro, - By the time the cocks first crow. - - - - -31. THE BELL-MAN - - From noise of scare-fires rest ye free - From murders, Benedicite; - From all mischances that may fright - Your pleasing slumbers in the night - Mercy secure ye all, and keep - The goblin from ye, while ye sleep. - --Past one a clock, and almost two,-- - My masters all, 'Good day to you.' - - - - -33. TO THE GENIUS OF HIS HOUSE - - Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence - Into this house pour down thy influence, - That through each room a golden pipe may run - Of living water by thy benizon; - Fulfil the larders, and with strength'ning bread - Be ever-more these bins replenished. - Next, like a bishop consecrate my ground, - That lucky fairies here may dance their round; - And, after that, lay down some silver pence, - The master's charge and care to recompence. - Charm then the chambers; make the beds for ease, - More than for peevish pining sicknesses; - Fix the foundation fast, and let the roof - Grow old with time, but yet keep weather-proof. - - - - -33. HIS GRANGE, OR PRIVATE WEALTH - - Though clock, - To tell how night draws hence, I've none, - A cock - I have to sing how day draws on: - I have - A maid, my Prue, by good luck sent, - To save - That little, Fates me gave or lent. - A hen - I keep, which, creeking day by day, - Tells when - She goes her long white egg to lay: - A goose - I have, which, with a jealous ear, - Lets loose - Her tongue, to tell what danger's near. - A lamb - I keep, tame, with my morsels fed, - Whose dam - An orphan left him, lately dead: - A cat - I keep, that plays about my house, - Grown fat - With eating many a miching mouse: - To these - A Trasy I do keep, whereby - I please - The more my rural privacy: - Which are - But toys, to give my heart some ease:-- - Where care - None is, slight things do lightly please. - - - - -34. A PASTORAL UPON THE BIRTH OF PRINCE CHARLES: - PRESENTED TO THE KING, AND SET BY MR NIC. LANIERE - - THE SPEAKERS: MIRTILLO, AMINTAS, AND AMARILLIS - - AMIN. Good day, Mirtillo. MIRT. And to you no less; - And all fair signs lead on our shepherdess. - AMAR. With all white luck to you. MIRT. But say, - What news - Stirs in our sheep-walk? AMIN. None, save that my - ewes, - My wethers, lambs, and wanton kids are well, - Smooth, fair, and fat; none better I can tell: - Or that this day Menalchas keeps a feast - For his sheep-shearers. MIRT. True, these are the least. - But dear Amintas, and sweet Amarillis, - Rest but a while here by this bank of lilies; - And lend a gentle ear to one report - The country has. AMIN. From whence? AMAR. From - whence? MIRT. The Court. - Three days before the shutting-in of May, - (With whitest wool be ever crown'd that day!) - To all our joy, a sweet-faced child was born, - More tender than the childhood of the morn. - CHORUS:--Pan pipe to him, and bleats of lambs and - sheep - Let lullaby the pretty prince asleep! - MIRT. And that his birth should be more singular, - At noon of day was seen a silver star, - Bright as the wise men's torch, which guided them - To God's sweet babe, when born at Bethlehem; - While golden angels, some have told to me, - Sung out his birth with heav'nly minstrelsy. - AMIN. O rare! But is't a trespass, if we three - Should wend along his baby-ship to see? - MIRT. Not so, not so. CHOR. But if it chance to prove - At most a fault, 'tis but a fault of love. - AMAR. But, dear Mirtillo, I have heard it told, - Those learned men brought incense, myrrh, and gold, - From countries far, with store of spices sweet, - And laid them down for offerings at his feet. - MIRT. 'Tis true, indeed; and each of us will bring - Unto our smiling and our blooming King, - A neat, though not so great an offering. - AMAR. A garland for my gift shall be, - Of flowers ne'er suck'd by th' thieving bee; - And all most sweet, yet all less sweet than he. - AMIN. And I will bear along with you - Leaves dropping down the honied dew, - With oaten pipes, as sweet, as new. - MIRT. And I a sheep-hook will bestow - To have his little King-ship know, - As he is Prince, he's Shepherd too. - CHOR. Come, let's away, and quickly let's be drest, - And quickly give:--the swiftest grace is best. - And when before him we have laid our treasures, - We'll bless the babe:--then back to country pleasures. - - - - -35. A DIALOGUE BETWIXT HIMSELF AND MISTRESS ELIZA WHEELER, -UNDER THE NAME OF AMARILLIS - - My dearest Love, since thou wilt go, - And leave me here behind thee; - For love or pity, let me know - The place where I may find thee. - - AMARIL. In country meadows, pearl'd with dew, - And set about with lilies; - There, filling maunds with cowslips, you - May find your Amarillis. - - HER. What have the meads to do with thee, - Or with thy youthful hours? - Live thou at court, where thou mayst be - The queen of men, not flowers. - - Let country wenches make 'em fine - With posies, since 'tis fitter - For thee with richest gems to shine, - And like the stars to glitter. - - AMARIL. You set too-high a rate upon - A shepherdess so homely. - HER. Believe it, dearest, there's not one - I' th' court that's half so comely. - - I prithee stay. AMARIL. I must away; - Let's kiss first, then we'll sever; - AMBO And though we bid adieu to day, - We shall not part for ever. - - - - -36. A BUCOLIC BETWIXT TWO; - LACON AND THYRSIS - - LACON. For a kiss or two, confess, - What doth cause this pensiveness, - Thou most lovely neat-herdess? - Why so lonely on the hill? - Why thy pipe by thee so still, - That erewhile was heard so shrill? - Tell me, do thy kine now fail - To fulfil the milking-pail? - Say, what is't that thou dost ail? - - THYR. None of these; but out, alas! - A mischance is come to pass, - And I'll tell thee what it was: - See, mine eyes are weeping ripe. - LACON. Tell, and I'll lay down my pipe. - - THYR. I have lost my lovely steer, - That to me was far more dear - Than these kine which I milk here; - Broad of forehead, large of eye, - Party-colour'd like a pye, - Smooth in each limb as a die; - Clear of hoof, and clear of horn, - Sharply pointed as a thorn; - With a neck by yoke unworn, - From the which hung down by strings, - Balls of cowslips, daisy rings, - Interplaced with ribbonings; - Faultless every way for shape; - Not a straw could him escape, - Ever gamesome as an ape, - But yet harmless as a sheep. - Pardon, Lacon, if I weep; - Tears will spring where woes are deep. - Now, ai me! ai me! Last night - Came a mad dog, and did bite, - Ay, and kill'd my dear delight. - - LACON Alack, for grief! - THYR. But I'll be brief. - Hence I must, for time doth call - Me, and my sad playmates all, - To his evening funeral. - Live long, Lacon; so adieu! - - LACON Mournful maid, farewell to you; - Earth afford ye flowers to strew! - - - - -37. A PASTORAL SUNG TO THE KING - - MONTANO, SILVIO, AND MIRTILLO, SHEPHERDS - - MON. Bad are the times. SIL. And worse than they are we. - MON. Troth, bad are both; worse fruit, and ill the tree: - The feast of shepherds fail. SIL. None crowns the cup - Of wassail now, or sets the quintel up: - And he, who used to lead the country-round, - Youthful Mirtillo, here he comes, grief-drown'd. - AMBO. Let's cheer him up. SIL. Behold him weeping-ripe. - MIRT. Ah, Amarillis! farewell mirth and pipe; - Since thou art gone, no more I mean to play - To these smooth lawns, my mirthful roundelay. - Dear Amarillis! MON. Hark! SIL. Mark! MIRT. This - earth grew sweet - Where, Amarillis, thou didst set thy feet. - AMBO Poor pitied youth! MIRT. And here the breath - of kine - And sheep grew more sweet by that breath of thine. - This dock of wool, and this rich lock of hair, - This ball of cowslips, these she gave me here. - SIL. Words sweet as love itself. MON. Hark!-- - MIRT. This way she came, and this way too she went; - How each thing smells divinely redolent! - Like to a field of beans, when newly blown, - Or like a meadow being lately mown. - MON. A sweet sad passion---- - MIRT. In dewy mornings, when she came this way, - Sweet bents would bow, to give my Love the day; - And when at night she folded had her sheep, - Daisies would shut, and closing, sigh and weep. - Besides (Ai me!) since she went hence to dwell, - The Voice's Daughter ne'er spake syllable. - But she is gone. SIL. Mirtillo, tell us whither? - MIRT. Where she and I shall never meet together. - MON. Fore-fend it, Pan! and Pales, do thou please - To give an end... MIRT. To what? SIL. Such griefs - as these. - MIRT. Never, O never! Still I may endure - The wound I suffer, never find a cure. - MON. Love, for thy sake, will bring her to these hills - And dales again. MIRT. No, I will languish still; - And all the while my part shall be to weep; - And with my sighs call home my bleating sheep; - And in the rind of every comely tree - I'll carve thy name, and in that name kiss thee. - MON. Set with the sun, thy woes! SIL. The day - grows old; - And time it is our full-fed flocks to fold. - CHOR. The shades grow great; but greater grows - our sorrow:-- - But let's go steep - Our eyes in sleep; - And meet to weep - To-morrow. - - - - -38. TO THE WILLOW-TREE - - Thou art to all lost love the best, - The only true plant found, - Wherewith young men and maids distrest - And left of love, are crown'd. - - When once the lover's rose is dead - Or laid aside forlorn, - Then willow-garlands, 'bout the head, - Bedew'd with tears, are worn. - - When with neglect, the lover's bane, - Poor maids rewarded be, - For their love lost their only gain - Is but a wreath from thee. - - And underneath thy cooling shade, - When weary of the light, - The love-spent youth, and love-sick maid, - Come to weep out the night. - - - - -39. THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR, OBERON'S CHAPEL - - DEDICATED TO MR JOHN MERRIFIELD, - COUNSELLOR AT LAW - - RARE TEMPLES THOU HAST SEEN, I KNOW, - AND RICH FOR IN AND OUTWARD SHOW; - SURVEY THIS CHAPEL BUILT, ALONE, - WITHOUT OR LIME, OR WOOD, OR STONE. - THEN SAY, IF ONE THOU'ST SEEN MORE FINE - THAN THIS, THE FAIRIES' ONCE, NOW THINE. - - THE TEMPLE - - A way enchaced with glass and beads - There is, that to the Chapel leads; - Whose structure, for his holy rest, - Is here the Halcyon's curious nest; - Into the which who looks, shall see - His Temple of Idolatry; - Where he of god-heads has such store, - As Rome's Pantheon had not more. - His house of Rimmon this he calls, - Girt with small bones, instead of walls. - First in a niche, more black than jet, - His idol-cricket there is set; - Then in a polish'd oval by - There stands his idol-beetle-fly; - Next, in an arch, akin to this, - His idol-canker seated is. - Then in a round, is placed by these - His golden god, Cantharides. - So that where'er ye look, ye see - No capital, no cornice free, - Or frieze, from this fine frippery. - Now this the Fairies would have known, - Theirs is a mixt religion: - And some have heard the elves it call - Part Pagan, part Papistical. - If unto me all tongues were granted, - I could not speak the saints here painted. - Saint Tit, Saint Nit, Saint Is, Saint Itis, - Who 'gainst Mab's state placed here right is. - Saint Will o' th' Wisp, of no great bigness, - But, alias, call'd here FATUUS IGNIS. - Saint Frip, Saint Trip, Saint Fill, Saint Filly;-- - Neither those other saint-ships will I - Here go about for to recite - Their number, almost infinite; - Which, one by one, here set down are - In this most curious calendar. - - First, at the entrance of the gate, - A little puppet-priest doth wait, - Who squeaks to all the comers there, - 'Favour your tongues, who enter here. - 'Pure hands bring hither, without stain.' - A second pules, 'Hence, hence, profane!' - Hard by, i' th' shell of half a nut, - The holy-water there is put; - A little brush of squirrels' hairs, - Composed of odd, not even pairs, - Stands in the platter, or close by, - To purge the fairy family. - Near to the altar stands the priest, - There offering up the holy-grist; - Ducking in mood and perfect tense, - With (much good do't him) reverence. - The altar is not here four-square, - Nor in a form triangular; - Nor made of glass, or wood, or stone, - But of a little transverse bone; - Which boys and bruckel'd children call - (Playing for points and pins) cockall. - Whose linen-drapery is a thin, - Subtile, and ductile codling's skin; - Which o'er the board is smoothly spread - With little seal-work damasked. - The fringe that circumbinds it, too, - Is spangle-work of trembling dew, - Which, gently gleaming, makes a show, - Like frost-work glitt'ring on the snow. - Upon this fetuous board doth stand - Something for shew-bread, and at hand - (Just in the middle of the altar) - Upon an end, the Fairy-psalter, - Graced with the trout-flies' curious wings, - Which serve for watchet ribbonings. - Now, we must know, the elves are led - Right by the Rubric, which they read: - And if report of them be true, - They have their text for what they do; - Ay, and their book of canons too. - And, as Sir Thomas Parson tells, - They have their book of articles; - And if that Fairy knight not lies - They have their book of homilies; - And other Scriptures, that design - A short, but righteous discipline. - The bason stands the board upon - To take the free-oblation; - A little pin-dust, which they hold - More precious than we prize our gold; - Which charity they give to many - Poor of the parish, if there's any. - Upon the ends of these neat rails, - Hatch'd with the silver-light of snails, - The elves, in formal manner, fix - Two pure and holy candlesticks, - In either which a tall small bent - Burns for the altar's ornament. - For sanctity, they have, to these, - Their curious copes and surplices - Of cleanest cobweb, hanging by - In their religious vestery. - They have their ash-pans and their brooms, - To purge the chapel and the rooms; - Their many mumbling mass-priests here, - And many a dapper chorister. - Their ush'ring vergers here likewise, - Their canons and their chaunteries; - Of cloister-monks they have enow, - Ay, and their abbey-lubbers too:-- - And if their legend do not lie, - They much affect the papacy; - And since the last is dead, there's hope - Elve Boniface shall next be Pope. - They have their cups and chalices, - Their pardons and indulgences, - Their beads of nits, bells, books, and wax- - Candles, forsooth, and other knacks; - Their holy oil, their fasting-spittle, - Their sacred salt here, not a little. - Dry chips, old shoes, rags, grease, and bones, - Beside their fumigations. - Many a trifle, too, and trinket, - And for what use, scarce man would think it. - Next then, upon the chanter's side - An apple's-core is hung up dried, - With rattling kernels, which is rung - To call to morn and even-song. - The saint, to which the most he prays - And offers incense nights and days, - The lady of the lobster is, - Whose foot-pace he doth stroke and kiss, - And, humbly, chives of saffron brings - For his most cheerful offerings. - When, after these, he's paid his vows, - He lowly to the altar bows; - And then he dons the silk-worm's shed, - Like a Turk's turban on his head, - And reverently departeth thence, - Hid in a cloud of frankincense; - And by the glow-worm's light well guided, - Goes to the Feast that's now provided. - - - - -40. OBERON'S FEAST - - SHAPCOT! TO THE THE FAIRY STATE - I WITH DISCRETION DEDICATE: - BECAUSE THOU PRIZEST THINGS THAT ARE - CURIOUS AND UNFAMILIAR. - TAKE FIRST THE FEAST; THESE DISHES GONE, - WE'LL SEE THE FAIRY COURT ANON. - - A little mushroom-table spread, - After short prayers, they set on bread, - A moon-parch'd grain of purest wheat, - With some small glitt'ring grit, to eat - His choice bits with; then in a trice - They make a feast less great than nice. - But all this while his eye is served, - We must not think his ear was sterved; - But that there was in place to stir - His spleen, the chirring grasshopper, - The merry cricket, puling fly, - The piping gnat for minstrelsy. - And now, we must imagine first, - The elves present, to quench his thirst, - A pure seed-pearl of infant dew, - Brought and besweeten'd in a blue - And pregnant violet; which done, - His kitling eyes begin to run - Quite through the table, where he spies - The horns of papery butterflies, - Of which he eats; and tastes a little - Of that we call the cuckoo's spittle; - A little fuz-ball pudding stands - By, yet not blessed by his hands, - That was too coarse; but then forthwith - He ventures boldly on the pith - Of sugar'd rush, and eats the sagge - And well-bestrutted bees' sweet bag; - Gladding his palate with some store - Of emmets' eggs; what would he more? - But beards of mice, a newt's stew'd thigh, - A bloated earwig, and a fly; - With the red-capt worm, that's shut - Within the concave of a nut, - Brown as his tooth. A little moth, - Late fatten'd in a piece of cloth; - With wither'd cherries, mandrakes' ears, - Moles' eyes: to these the slain stag's tears; - The unctuous dewlaps of a snail, - The broke-heart of a nightingale - O'ercome in music; with a wine - Ne'er ravish'd from the flattering vine, - But gently prest from the soft side - Of the most sweet and dainty bride, - Brought in a dainty daisy, which - He fully quaffs up, to bewitch - His blood to height; this done, commended - Grace by his priest; The feast is ended. - - - - -41. THE BEGGAR TO MAB, THE FAIRY QUEEN - - Please your Grace, from out your store - Give an alms to one that's poor, - That your mickle may have more. - Black I'm grown for want of meat, - Give me then an ant to eat, - Or the cleft ear of a mouse - Over-sour'd in drink of souce; - Or, sweet lady, reach to me - The abdomen of a bee; - Or commend a cricket's hip, - Or his huckson, to my scrip; - Give for bread, a little bit - Of a pease that 'gins to chit, - And my full thanks take for it. - Flour of fuz-balls, that's too good - For a man in needy-hood; - But the meal of mill-dust can - Well content a craving man; - Any orts the elves refuse - Well will serve the beggar's use. - But if this may seem too much - For an alms, then give me such - Little bits that nestle there - In the pris'ner's pannier. - So a blessing light upon - You, and mighty Oberon; - That your plenty last till when - I return your alms again. - - - - -42. THE HAG - - The Hag is astride, - This night for to ride, - The devil and she together; - Through thick and through thin, - Now out, and then in, - Though ne'er so foul be the weather. - - A thorn or a bur - She takes for a spur; - With a lash of a bramble she rides now, - Through brakes and through briars, - O'er ditches and mires, - She follows the spirit that guides now. - - No beast, for his food, - Dares now range the wood, - But hush'd in his lair he lies lurking; - While mischiefs, by these, - On land and on seas, - At noon of night are a-working. - - The storm will arise, - And trouble the skies - This night; and, more for the wonder, - The ghost from the tomb - Affrighted shall come, - Call'd out by the clap of the thunder. - - - - -43. THE MAD MAID'S SONG - - Good morrow to the day so fair; - Good morning, sir, to you; - Good morrow to mine own torn hair, - Bedabbled with the dew. - - Good morning to this primrose too; - Good morrow to each maid; - That will with flowers the tomb bestrew - Wherein my Love is laid. - - Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me, - Alack and well-a-day! - For pity, sir, find out that bee, - Which bore my Love away. - - I'll seek him in your bonnet brave; - I'll seek him in your eyes; - Nay, now I think they've made his grave - I' th' bed of strawberries. - - I'll seek him there; I know, ere this, - The cold, cold earth doth shake him; - But I will go, or send a kiss - By you, sir, to awake him. - - Pray hurt him not; though he be dead, - He knows well who do love him; - And who with green turfs rear his head, - And who do rudely move him. - - He's soft and tender, pray take heed, - With bands of cowslips bind him, - And bring him home;--but 'tis decreed - That I shall never find him. - - - - -44. THE CHEAT OF CUPID; OR, THE UNGENTLE GUEST - - One silent night of late, - When every creature rested, - Came one unto my gate, - And knocking, me molested. - - Who's that, said I, beats there, - And troubles thus the sleepy? - Cast off; said he, all fear, - And let not locks thus keep ye. - - For I a boy am, who - By moonless nights have swerved; - And all with showers wet through, - And e'en with cold half starved. - - I pitiful arose, - And soon a taper lighted; - And did myself disclose - Unto the lad benighted. - - I saw he had a bow, - And wings too, which did shiver; - And looking down below, - I spied he had a quiver. - - I to my chimney's shine - Brought him, as Love professes, - And chafed his hands with mine, - And dried his dropping tresses. - - But when he felt him warm'd, - Let's try this bow of ours - And string, if they be harm'd, - Said he, with these late showers. - - Forthwith his bow he bent, - And wedded string and arrow, - And struck me, that it went - Quite through my heart and marrow - - Then laughing loud, he flew - Away, and thus said flying, - Adieu, mine host, adieu, - I'll leave thy heart a-dying. - - - - -45. UPON CUPID - - Love, like a gipsy, lately came, - And did me much importune - To see my hand, that by the same - He might foretell my fortune. - - He saw my palm; and then, said he, - I tell thee, by this score here, - That thou, within few months, shalt be - The youthful Prince D'Amour here. - - I smiled, and bade him once more prove, - And by some cross-line show it, - That I could ne'er be Prince of Love, - Though here the Princely Poet. - - - - -46. TO BE MERRY - - Let's now take our time, - While we're in our prime, - And old, old age is afar off; - For the evil, evil days - Will come on apace, - Before we can be aware of. - - - - -47. UPON HIS GRAY HAIRS - - Fly me not, though I be gray, - Lady, this I know you'll say; - Better look the roses red, - When with white commingled. - Black your hairs are; mine are white; - This begets the more delight, - When things meet most opposite; - As in pictures we descry - Venus standing Vulcan by. - - - - -48. AN HYMN TO THE MUSES - - Honour to you who sit - Near to the well of wit, - And drink your fill of it! - - Glory and worship be - To you, sweet Maids, thrice three, - Who still inspire me; - - And teach me how to sing - Unto the lyric string, - My measures ravishing! - - Then, while I sing your praise, - My priest-hood crown with bays - Green to the end of days! - - - - -49. THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK - - So Good-Luck came, and on my roof did light, - Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night; - Not all at once, but gently,--as the trees - Are by the sun-beams, tickled by degrees. - - - - -50. HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY - - HERE, Here I live with what my board - Can with the smallest cost afford; - Though ne'er so mean the viands be, - They well content my Prue and me: - Or pea or bean, or wort or beet, - Whatever comes, Content makes sweet. - Here we rejoice, because no rent - We pay for our poor tenement; - Wherein we rest, and never fear - The landlord or the usurer. - The quarter-day does ne'er affright - Our peaceful slumbers in the night: - We eat our own, and batten more, - Because we feed on no man's score; - But pity those whose flanks grow great, - Swell'd with the lard of other's meat. - We bless our fortunes, when we see - Our own beloved privacy; - And like our living, where we're known - To very few, or else to none. - - - - -51. HIS RETURN TO LONDON - - From the dull confines of the drooping west, - To see the day spring from the pregnant east, - Ravish'd in spirit, I come, nay more, I fly - To thee, blest place of my nativity! - Thus, thus with hallow'd foot I touch the ground, - With thousand blessings by thy fortune crown'd. - O fruitful Genius! that bestowest here - An everlasting plenty year by year; - O place! O people! manners! framed to please - All nations, customs, kindreds, languages! - I am a free-born Roman; suffer then - That I amongst you live a citizen. - London my home is; though by hard fate sent - Into a long and irksome banishment; - Yet since call'd back, henceforward let me be, - O native country, repossess'd by thee! - For, rather than I'll to the west return, - I'll beg of thee first here to have mine urn. - Weak I am grown, and must in short time fall; - Give thou my sacred reliques burial. - - - - -52. HIS DESIRE - - Give me a man that is not dull, - When all the world with rifts is full; - But unamazed dares clearly sing, - Whenas the roof's a-tottering; - And though it falls, continues still - Tickling the Cittern with his quill. - - - - -53. AN ODE FOR BEN JONSON - - Ah Ben! - Say how or when - Shall we, thy guests, - Meet at those lyric feasts, - Made at the Sun, - The Dog, the Triple Tun; - Where we such clusters had, - As made us nobly wild, not mad? - And yet each verse of thine - Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine. - - My Ben! - Or come again, - Or send to us - Thy wit's great overplus; - But teach us yet - Wisely to husband it, - Lest we that talent spend; - And having once brought to an end - That precious stock,--the store - Of such a wit the world should have no more. - - - - -54. TO LIVE MERRILY, - AND TO TRUST TO GOOD VERSES - - Now is the time for mirth; - Nor cheek or tongue be dumb; - For with [the] flowery earth - The golden pomp is come. - - The golden pomp is come; - For now each tree does wear, - Made of her pap and gum, - Rich beads of amber here. - - Now reigns the Rose, and now - Th' Arabian dew besmears - My uncontrolled brow, - And my retorted hairs. - - Homer, this health to thee! - In sack of such a kind, - That it would make thee see, - Though thou wert ne'er so blind - - Next, Virgil I'll call forth, - To pledge this second health - In wine, whose each cup's worth - An Indian commonwealth. - - A goblet next I'll drink - To Ovid; and suppose - Made he the pledge, he'd think - The world had all one nose. - - Then this immensive cup - Of aromatic wine, - Catullus! I quaff up - To that terse muse of thine. - - Wild I am now with heat: - O Bacchus! cool thy rays; - Or frantic I shall eat - Thy Thyrse, and bite the Bays! - - Round, round, the roof does run; - And being ravish'd thus, - Come, I will drink a tun - To my Propertius. - - Now, to Tibullus next, - This flood I drink to thee; - --But stay, I see a text, - That this presents to me. - - Behold! Tibullus lies - Here burnt, whose small return - Of ashes scarce suffice - To fill a little urn. - - Trust to good verses then; - They only will aspire, - When pyramids, as men, - Are lost i' th' funeral fire. - - And when all bodies meet - In Lethe to be drown'd; - Then only numbers sweet - With endless life are crown'd. - - - - -55. THE APPARITION OF HIS, MISTRESS, - CALLING HIM TO ELYSIUM - - DESUNT NONNULLA-- - - Come then, and like two doves with silvery wings, - Let our souls fly to th' shades, wherever springs - Sit smiling in the meads; where balm and oil, - Roses and cassia, crown the untill'd soil; - Where no disease reigns, or infection comes - To blast the air, but amber-gris and gums. - This, that, and ev'ry thicket doth transpire - More sweet than storax from the hallow'd fire; - Where ev'ry tree a wealthy issue bears - Of fragrant apples, blushing plums, or pears; - And all the shrubs, with sparkling spangles, shew - Like morning sun-shine, tinselling the dew. - Here in green meadows sits eternal May, - Purfling the margents, while perpetual day - So double-gilds the air, as that no night - Can ever rust th' enamel of the light: - Here naked younglings, handsome striplings, run - Their goals for virgins' kisses; which when done, - Then unto dancing forth the learned round - Commix'd they meet, with endless roses crown'd. - And here we'll sit on primrose-banks, and see - Love's chorus led by Cupid; and we'll he - Two loving followers too unto the grove, - Where poets sing the stories of our love. - There thou shalt hear divine Musaeus sing - Of Hero and Leander; then I'll bring - Thee to the stand, where honour'd Homer reads - His Odyssees and his high Iliads; - About whose throne the crowd of poets throng - To hear the incantation of his tongue: - To Linus, then to Pindar; and that done, - I'll bring thee, Herrick, to Anacreon, - Quaffing his full-crown'd bowls of burning wine, - And in his raptures speaking lines of thine, - Like to his subject; and as his frantic - Looks shew him truly Bacchanalian like, - Besmear'd with grapes,--welcome he shall thee thither, - Where both may rage, both drink and dance together. - Then stately Virgil, witty Ovid, by - Whom fair Corinna sits, and doth comply - With ivory wrists his laureat head, and steeps - His eye in dew of kisses while he sleeps. - Then soft Catullus, sharp-fang'd Martial, - And towering Lucan, Horace, Juvenal, - And snaky Persius; these, and those whom rage, - Dropt for the jars of heaven, fill'd, t' engage - All times unto their frenzies; thou shalt there - Behold them in a spacious theatre: - Among which glories, crown'd with sacred bays - And flatt'ring ivy, two recite their plays, - Beaumont and Fletcher, swans, to whom all ears - Listen, while they, like sirens in their spheres, - Sing their Evadne; and still more for thee - There yet remains to know than thou canst see - By glimm'ring of a fancy; Do but come, - And there I'll shew thee that capacious room - In which thy father, Jonson, now is placed - As in a globe of radiant fire, and graced - To be in that orb crown'd, that doth include - Those prophets of the former magnitude, - And he one chief. But hark! I hear the cock, - The bell-man of the night, proclaim the clock - Of late struck One; and now I see the prime - Of day break from the pregnant east:--'tis time - I vanish:--more I had to say, - But night determines here; Away! - - - - -56. THE INVITATION - - To sup with thee thou didst me home invite, - And mad'st a promise that mine appetite - Should meet and tire, on such lautitious meat, - The like not Heliogabalus did eat: - And richer wine would'st give to me, thy guest, - Than Roman Sylla pour'd out at his feast. - I came, 'tis true, and look'd for fowl of price, - The bastard Phoenix; bird of Paradise; - And for no less than aromatic wine - Of maidens-blush, commix'd with jessamine. - Clean was the hearth, the mantle larded jet, - Which, wanting Lar and smoke, hung weeping wet; - At last i' th' noon of winter, did appear - A ragg'd soused neats-foot, with sick vinegar; - And in a burnish'd flagonet, stood by - Beer small as comfort, dead as charity. - At which amazed, and pond'ring on the food, - How cold it was, and how it chill'd my blood, - I curst the master, and I damn'd the souce, - And swore I'd got the ague of the house. - --Well, when to eat thou dost me next desire, - I'll bring a fever, since thou keep'st no fire. - - - - -57. TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW - - Since to the country first I came, - I have lost my former flame; - And, methinks, I not inherit, - As I did, my ravish'd spirit. - If I write a verse or two, - 'Tis with very much ado; - In regard I want that wine - Which should conjure up a line. - Yet, though now of Muse bereft, - I have still the manners left - For to thank you, noble sir, - For those gifts you do confer - Upon him, who only can - Be in prose a grateful man. - - - - -58. A COUNTRY LIFE: - TO HIS BROTHER, MR THOMAS HERRICK - - Thrice, and above, blest, my soul's half, art thou, - In thy both last and better vow; - Could'st leave the city, for exchange, to see - The country's sweet simplicity; - And it to know and practise, with intent - To grow the sooner innocent; - By studying to know virtue, and to aim - More at her nature than her name; - The last is but the least; the first doth tell - Ways less to live, than to live well:-- - And both are known to thee, who now canst live - Led by thy conscience, to give - Justice to soon-pleased nature, and to show - Wisdom and she together go, - And keep one centre; This with that conspires - To teach man to confine desires, - And know that riches have their proper stint - In the contented mind, not mint; - And canst instruct that those who have the itch - Of craving more, are never rich. - These things thou knows't to th' height, and dost prevent - That plague, because thou art content - With that Heaven gave thee with a wary hand, - (More blessed in thy brass than land) - To keep cheap Nature even and upright; - To cool, not cocker appetite. - Thus thou canst tersely live to satisfy - The belly chiefly, not the eye; - Keeping the barking stomach wisely quiet, - Less with a neat than needful diet. - But that which most makes sweet thy country life, - Is the fruition of a wife, - Whom, stars consenting with thy fate, thou hast - Got not so beautiful as chaste; - By whose warm side thou dost securely sleep, - While Love the sentinel doth keep, - With those deeds done by day, which ne'er affright - Thy silken slumbers in the night: - Nor has the darkness power to usher in - Fear to those sheets that know no sin. - The damask'd meadows and the pebbly streams - Sweeten and make soft your dreams: - The purling springs, groves, birds, and well weaved bowers, - With fields enamelled with flowers, - Present their shapes, while fantasy discloses - Millions of Lilies mix'd with Roses. - Then dream, ye hear the lamb by many a bleat - Woo'd to come suck the milky teat; - While Faunus in the vision comes, to keep - From rav'ning wolves the fleecy sheep: - With thousand such enchanting dreams, that meet - To make sleep not so sound as sweet; - Nor call these figures so thy rest endear, - As not to rise when Chanticlere - Warns the last watch;--but with the dawn dost rise - To work, but first to sacrifice; - Making thy peace with Heaven for some late fault, - With holy-meal and spirting salt; - Which done, thy painful thumb this sentence tells us, - 'Jove for our labour all things sells us.' - Nor are thy daily and devout affairs - Attended with those desp'rate cares - Th' industrious merchant has, who for to find - Gold, runneth to the Western Ind, - And back again, tortured with fears, doth fly, - Untaught to suffer Poverty;-- - But thou at home, blest with securest ease, - Sitt'st, and believ'st that there be seas, - And watery dangers; while thy whiter hap - But sees these things within thy map; - And viewing them with a more safe survey, - Mak'st easy fear unto thee say, - 'A heart thrice walled with oak and brass, that man - Had, first durst plough the ocean.' - But thou at home, without or tide or gale, - Canst in thy map securely sail; - Seeing those painted countries, and so guess - By those fine shades, their substances; - And from thy compass taking small advice, - Buy'st travel at the lowest price. - Nor are thine ears so deaf but thou canst hear, - Far more with wonder than with fear, - Fame tell of states, of countries, courts, and kings, - And believe there be such things; - When of these truths thy happier knowledge lies - More in thine ears than in thine eyes. - And when thou hear'st by that too true report, - Vice rules the most, or all, at court, - Thy pious wishes are, though thou not there, - Virtue had, and moved her sphere. - But thou liv'st fearless; and thy face ne'er shows - Fortune when she comes, or goes; - But with thy equal thoughts, prepared dost stand - To take her by the either hand; - Nor car'st which comes the first, the foul or fair:-- - A wise man ev'ry way lies square; - And like a surly oak with storms perplex'd - Grows still the stronger, strongly vex'd. - Be so, bold Spirit; stand centre-like, unmoved; - And be not only thought, but proved - To be what I report thee, and inure - Thyself, if want comes, to endure; - And so thou dost; for thy desires are - Confined to live with private Lar: - Nor curious whether appetite be fed - Or with the first, or second bread. - Who keep'st no proud mouth for delicious cates; - Hunger makes coarse meats, delicates. - Canst, and unurged, forsake that larded fare, - Which art, not nature, makes so rare; - To taste boil'd nettles, coleworts, beets, and eat - These, and sour herbs, as dainty meat:-- - While soft opinion makes thy Genius say, - 'Content makes all ambrosia;' - Nor is it that thou keep'st this stricter size - So much for want, as exercise; - To numb the sense of dearth, which, should sin haste it, - Thou might'st but only see't, not taste it; - Yet can thy humble roof maintain a quire - Of singing crickets by thy fire; - And the brisk mouse may feast herself with crumbs, - Till that the green-eyed kitling comes; - Then to her cabin, blest she can escape - The sudden danger of a rape. - --And thus thy little well-kept stock doth prove, - Wealth cannot make a life, but love. - Nor art thou so close-handed, but canst spend, - (Counsel concurring with the end), - As well as spare; still conning o'er this theme, - To shun the first and last extreme; - Ordaining that thy small stock find no breach, - Or to exceed thy tether's reach; - But to live round, and close, and wisely true - To thine own self, and known to few. - Thus let thy rural sanctuary be - Elysium to thy wife and thee; - There to disport your selves with golden measure; - For seldom use commends the pleasure. - Live, and live blest; thrice happy pair; let breath, - But lost to one, be th' other's death: - And as there is one love, one faith, one troth, - Be so one death, one grave to both; - Till when, in such assurance live, ye may - Nor fear, or wish your dying day. - - - - -59. TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS - - Since shed or cottage I have none, - I sing the more, that thou hast one; - To whose glad threshold, and free door - I may a Poet come, though poor; - And eat with thee a savoury bit, - Paying but common thanks for it. - --Yet should I chance, my Wicks, to see - An over-leaven look in thee, - To sour the bread, and turn the beer - To an exalted vinegar; - Or should'st thou prize me as a dish - Of thrice-boil'd worts, or third-day's fish, - I'd rather hungry go and come - Than to thy house be burdensome; - Yet, in my depth of grief, I'd be - One that should drop his beads for thee. - - - - -60. A PARANAETICALL, OR ADVISIVE VERSE TO HIS FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS - - Is this a life, to break thy sleep, - To rise as soon as day doth peep? - To tire thy patient ox or ass - By noon, and let thy good days pass, - Not knowing this, that Jove decrees - Some mirth, t' adulce man's miseries? - --No; 'tis a life to have thine oil - Without extortion from thy soil; - Thy faithful fields to yield thee grain, - Although with some, yet little pain; - To have thy mind, and nuptial bed, - With fears and cares uncumbered - A pleasing wife, that by thy side - Lies softly panting like a bride; - --This is to live, and to endear - Those minutes Time has lent us here. - Then, while fates suffer, live thou free, - As is that air that circles thee; - And crown thy temples too; and let - Thy servant, not thy own self, sweat, - To strut thy barns with sheaves of wheat. - --Time steals away like to a stream, - And we glide hence away with them: - No sound recalls the hours once fled, - Or roses, being withered; - Nor us, my friend, when we are lost, - Like to a dew, or melted frost. - --Then live we mirthful while we should, - And turn the iron age to gold; - Let's feast and frolic, sing and play, - And thus less last, than live our day. - - Whose life with care is overcast, - That man's not said to live, but last; - Nor is't a life, seven years to tell, - But for to live that half seven well; - And that we'll do, as men who know, - Some few sands spent, we hence must go, - Both to be blended in the urn, - From whence there's never a return. - - - - -61. TO HIS HONOURED AND MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND MR CHARLES COTTON - - For brave comportment, wit without offence, - Words fully flowing, yet of influence, - Thou art that man of men, the man alone - Worthy the public admiration; - Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write, - And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight; - Tell'st when a verse springs high; how understood - To be, or not, born of the royal blood - What state above, what symmetry below, - Lines have, or should have, thou the best can show:-- - For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be, - Not so much known, as to be loved of thee:-- - Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays - Be less another's laurel, than thy praise. - - - - -62. A NEW YEAR'S GIFT, - SENT TO SIR SIMEON STEWARD - - No news of navies burnt at seas; - No noise of late spawn'd tittyries; - No closet plot or open vent, - That frights men with a Parliament: - No new device or late-found trick, - To read by th' stars the kingdom's sick; - No gin to catch the State, or wring - The free-born nostril of the King, - We send to you; but here a jolly - Verse crown'd with ivy and with holly; - That tells of winter's tales and mirth - That milk-maids make about the hearth; - Of Christmas sports, the wassail-bowl, - That toss'd up, after Fox-i'-th'-hole; - Of Blind-man-buff, and of the care - That young men have to shoe the Mare; - Of twelf-tide cakes, of pease and beans, - Wherewith ye make those merry scenes, - Whenas ye chuse your king and queen, - And cry out, 'Hey for our town green!'-- - Of ash-heaps, in the which ye use - Husbands and wives by streaks to chuse; - Of crackling laurel, which fore-sounds - A plenteous harvest to your grounds; - Of these, and such like things, for shift, - We send instead of New-year's gift. - --Read then, and when your faces shine - With buxom meat and cap'ring wine, - Remember us in cups full crown'd, - And let our city-health go round, - Quite through the young maids and the men, - To the ninth number, if not ten; - Until the fired chestnuts leap - For joy to see the fruits ye reap, - From the plump chalice and the cup - That tempts till it be tossed up.-- - Then as ye sit about your embers, - Call not to mind those fled Decembers; - But think on these, that are t' appear, - As daughters to the instant year; - Sit crown'd with rose-buds, and carouse, - Till LIBER PATER twirls the house - About your ears, and lay upon - The year, your cares, that's fled and gone: - And let the russet swains the plough - And harrow hang up resting now; - And to the bag-pipe all address, - Till sleep takes place of weariness. - And thus throughout, with Christmas plays, - Frolic the full twelve holy-days. - - - - -63. AN ODE TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW - - Here we securely live, and eat - The cream of meat; - And keep eternal fires, - By which we sit, and do divine, - As wine - And rage inspires. - - If full, we charm; then call upon - Anacreon - To grace the frantic Thyrse: - And having drunk, we raise a shout - Throughout, - To praise his verse. - - Then cause we Horace to be read, - Which sung or said, - A goblet, to the brim, - Of lyric wine, both swell'd and crown'd, - Around - We quaff to him. - - Thus, thus we live, and spend the hours - In wine and flowers; - And make the frolic year, - The month, the week, the instant day - To stay - The longer here. - - --Come then, brave Knight, and see the cell - Wherein I dwell; - And my enchantments too; - Which love and noble freedom is:-- - And this - Shall fetter you. - - Take horse, and come; or be so kind - To send your mind, - Though but in numbers few:-- - And I shall think I have the heart - Or part - Of Clipsby Crew. - - - - -64. A PANEGYRIC TO SIR LEWIS PEMBERTON - - Till I shall come again, let this suffice, - I send my salt, my sacrifice - To thee, thy lady, younglings, and as far - As to thy Genius and thy Lar; - To the worn threshold, porch, hall, parlour, kitchen, - The fat-fed smoking temple, which in - The wholesome savour of thy mighty chines, - Invites to supper him who dines: - Where laden spits, warp'd with large ribs of beef, - Not represent, but give relief - To the lank stranger and the sour swain, - Where both may feed and come again; - For no black-bearded Vigil from thy door - Beats with a button'd-staff the poor; - But from thy warm love-hatching gates, each may - Take friendly morsels, and there stay - To sun his thin-clad members, if he likes; - For thou no porter keep'st who strikes. - No comer to thy roof his guest-rite wants; - Or, staying there, is scourged with taunts - Of some rough groom, who, yirk'd with corns, says, 'Sir, - 'You've dipp'd too long i' th' vinegar; - 'And with our broth and bread and bits, Sir friend, - 'You've fared well; pray make an end; - 'Two days you've larded here; a third, ye know, - 'Makes guests and fish smell strong; pray go - 'You to some other chimney, and there take - 'Essay of other giblets; make - 'Merry at another's hearth; you're here - 'Welcome as thunder to our beer; - 'Manners knows distance, and a man unrude - 'Would soon recoil, and not intrude - 'His stomach to a second meal.'--No, no, - Thy house, well fed and taught, can show - No such crabb'd vizard: Thou hast learnt thy train - With heart and hand to entertain; - And by the arms-full, with a breast unhid, - As the old race of mankind did, - When either's heart, and either's hand did strive - To be the nearer relative; - Thou dost redeem those times: and what was lost - Of ancient honesty, may boast - It keeps a growth in thee, and so will run - A course in thy fame's pledge, thy son. - Thus, like a Roman Tribune, thou thy gate - Early sets ope to feast, and late; - Keeping no currish waiter to affright, - With blasting eye, the appetite, - Which fain would waste upon thy cates, but that - The trencher creature marketh what - Best and more suppling piece he cuts, and by - Some private pinch tells dangers nigh, - A hand too desp'rate, or a knife that bites - Skin-deep into the pork, or lights - Upon some part of kid, as if mistook, - When checked by the butler's look. - No, no, thy bread, thy wine, thy jocund beer - Is not reserved for Trebius here, - But all who at thy table seated are, - Find equal freedom, equal fare; - And thou, like to that hospitable god, - Jove, joy'st when guests make their abode - To eat thy bullocks thighs, thy veals, thy fat - Wethers, and never grudged at. - The pheasant, partridge, gotwit, reeve, ruff, rail, - The cock, the curlew, and the quail, - These, and thy choicest viands, do extend - Their tastes unto the lower end - Of thy glad table; not a dish more known - To thee, than unto any one: - But as thy meat, so thy immortal wine - Makes the smirk face of each to shine, - And spring fresh rose-buds, while the salt, the wit, - Flows from the wine, and graces it; - While Reverence, waiting at the bashful board, - Honours my lady and my lord. - No scurril jest, no open scene is laid - Here, for to make the face afraid; - But temp'rate mirth dealt forth, and so discreet- - Ly, that it makes the meat more sweet, - And adds perfumes unto the wine, which thou - Dost rather pour forth, than allow - By cruse and measure; thus devoting wine, - As the Canary isles were thine; - But with that wisdom and that method, as - No one that's there his guilty glass - Drinks of distemper, or has cause to cry - Repentance to his liberty. - No, thou know'st orders, ethics, and hast read - All oeconomics, know'st to lead - A house-dance neatly, and canst truly show - How far a figure ought to go, - Forward or backward, side-ward, and what pace - Can give, and what retract a grace; - What gesture, courtship, comeliness agrees, - With those thy primitive decrees, - To give subsistence to thy house, and proof - What Genii support thy roof, - Goodness and greatness, not the oaken piles; - For these, and marbles have their whiles - To last, but not their ever; virtue's hand - It is which builds 'gainst fate to stand. - Such is thy house, whose firm foundations trust - Is more in thee than in her dust, - Or depth; these last may yield, and yearly shrink, - When what is strongly built, no chink - Or yawning rupture can the same devour, - But fix'd it stands, by her own power - And well-laid bottom, on the iron and rock, - Which tries, and counter-stands the shock - And ram of time, and by vexation grows - The stronger. Virtue dies when foes - Are wanting to her exercise, but, great - And large she spreads by dust and sweat. - Safe stand thy walls, and thee, and so both will, - Since neither's height was raised by th'ill - Of others; since no stud, no stone, no piece - Was rear'd up by the poor-man's fleece; - No widow's tenement was rack'd to gild - Or fret thy cieling, or to build - A sweating-closet, to anoint the silk- - Soft skin, or bath[e] in asses' milk; - No orphan's pittance, left him, served to set - The pillars up of lasting jet, - For which their cries might beat against thine ears, - Or in the damp jet read their tears. - No plank from hallow'd altar does appeal - To yond' Star-chamber, or does seal - A curse to thee, or thine; but all things even - Make for thy peace, and pace to heaven. - --Go on directly so, as just men may - A thousand times more swear, than say - This is that princely Pemberton, who can - Teach men to keep a God in man; - And when wise poets shall search out to see - Good men, they find them all in thee. - - - - -65. ALL THINGS DECAY AND DIE - - All things decay with time: The forest sees - The growth and down-fall of her aged trees; - That timber tall, which three-score lustres stood - The proud dictator of the state-like wood, - I mean the sovereign of all plants, the oak, - Droops, dies, and falls without the cleaver's stroke. - - - - -66. TO HIS DYING BROTHER, MASTER WILLIAM HERRICK - - Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight, - But stay the time till we have bade good-night. - Thou hast both wind and tide with thee; thy way - As soon dispatch'd is by the night as day. - Let us not then so rudely henceforth go - Till we have wept, kiss'd, sigh'd, shook hands, or so. - There's pain in parting, and a kind of hell - When once true lovers take their last farewell. - What? shall we two our endless leaves take here - Without a sad look, or a solemn tear? - He knows not love that hath not this truth proved, - Love is most loth to leave the thing beloved. - Pay we our vows and go; yet when we part, - Then, even then, I will bequeath my heart - Into thy loving hands; for I'll keep none - To warm my breast, when thou, my pulse, art gone, - No, here I'll last, and walk, a harmless shade, - About this urn, wherein thy dust is laid, - To guard it so, as nothing here shall be - Heavy, to hurt those sacred seeds of thee. - - - - -67. HIS AGE: - - DEDICATED TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, - MR JOHN WICKES, UNDER THE NAME OF - POSTUMUS - - Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly - And leave no sound: nor piety, - Or prayers, or vow - Can keep the wrinkle from the brow; - But we must on, - As fate does lead or draw us; none, - None, Posthumus, could e'er decline - The doom of cruel Proserpine. - - The pleasing wife, the house, the ground - Must all be left, no one plant found - To follow thee, - Save only the curst cypress-tree! - --A merry mind - Looks forward, scorns what's left behind; - Let's live, my Wickes, then, while we may, - And here enjoy our holiday. - - We've seen the past best times, and these - Will ne'er return; we see the seas, - And moons to wane, - But they fill up their ebbs again; - But vanish'd man, - Like to a lily lost, ne'er can, - Ne'er can repullulate, or bring - His days to see a second spring. - - But on we must, and thither tend, - Where Ancus and rich Tullus blend - Their sacred seed; - Thus has infernal Jove decreed; - We must be made, - Ere long a song, ere long a shade. - Why then, since life to us is short, - Let's make it full up by our sport. - - Crown we our heads with roses then, - And 'noint with Tyrian balm; for when - We two are dead, - The world with us is buried. - Then live we free - As is the air, and let us be - Our own fair wind, and mark each one - Day with the white and lucky stone. - - We are not poor, although we have - No roofs of cedar, nor our brave - Baiae, nor keep - Account of such a flock of sheep; - Nor bullocks fed - To lard the shambles; barbels bred - To kiss our hands; nor do we wish - For Pollio's lampreys in our dish. - - If we can meet, and so confer, - Both by a shining salt-cellar, - And have our roof, - Although not arch'd, yet weather-proof, - And cieling free, - From that cheap candle-baudery; - We'll eat our bean with that full mirth - As we were lords of all the earth. - - Well, then, on what seas we are tost, - Our comfort is, we can't be lost. - Let the winds drive - Our bark, yet she will keep alive - Amidst the deeps; - 'Tis constancy, my Wickes, which keeps - The pinnace up; which, though she errs - I' th' seas, she saves her passengers. - - Say, we must part; sweet mercy bless - Us both i' th' sea, camp, wilderness! - Can we so far - Stray, to become less circular - Than we are now? - No, no, that self-same heart, that vow - Which made us one, shall ne'er undo, - Or ravel so, to make us two. - - Live in thy peace; as for myself, - When I am bruised on the shelf - Of time, and show - My locks behung with frost and snow; - When with the rheum, - The cough, the pthisic, I consume - Unto an almost nothing; then, - The ages fled, I'll call again, - - And with a tear compare these last - Lame and bad times with those are past, - While Baucis by, - My old lean wife, shall kiss it dry; - And so we'll sit - By th' fire, foretelling snow and slit - And weather by our aches, grown - Now old enough to be our own - - True calendars, as puss's ear - Wash'd o'er 's, to tell what change is near; - Then to assuage - The gripings of the chine by age, - I'll call my young - Iulus to sing such a song - I made upon my Julia's breast, - And of her blush at such a feast. - - Then shall he read that flower of mine - Enclosed within a crystal shrine; - A primrose next; - A piece then of a higher text; - For to beget - In me a more transcendant heat, - Than that insinuating fire - Which crept into each aged sire - - When the fair Helen from her eyes - Shot forth her loving sorceries; - At which I'll rear - Mine aged limbs above my chair; - And hearing it, - Flutter and crow, as in a fit - Of fresh concupiscence, and cry, - 'No lust there's like to Poetry.' - - Thus frantic, crazy man, God wot, - I'll call to mind things half-forgot; - And oft between - Repeat the times that I have seen; - Thus ripe with tears, - And twisting my Iulus' hairs, - Doting, I'll weep and say, 'In truth, - Baucis, these were my sins of youth.' - - Then next I'Il cause my hopeful lad, - If a wild apple can be had, - To crown the hearth; - Lar thus conspiring with our mirth; - Then to infuse - Our browner ale into the cruse; - Which, sweetly spiced, we'll first carouse - Unto the Genius of the house. - - Then the next health to friends of mine. - Loving the brave Burgundian wine, - High sons of pith, - Whose fortunes I have frolick'd with; - Such as could well - Bear up the magic bough and spell; - And dancing 'bout the mystic Thyrse, - Give up the just applause to verse; - - To those, and then again to thee, - We'll drink, my Wickes, until we be - Plump as the cherry, - Though not so fresh, yet full as merry - As the cricket, - The untamed heifer, or the pricket, - Until our tongues shall tell our ears, - We're younger by a score of years. - - Thus, till we see the fire less shine - From th' embers than the kitling's eyne, - We'll still sit up, - Sphering about the wassail cup, - To all those times - Which gave me honour for my rhymes; - The coal once spent, we'll then to bed, - Far more than night bewearied. - - - - -68. THE BAD SEASON MAKES THE POET SAD - - Dull to myself, and almost dead to these, - My many fresh and fragrant mistresses; - Lost to all music now, since every thing - Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing. - Sick is the land to th' heart; and doth endure - More dangerous faintings by her desperate cure. - But if that golden age would come again, - And Charles here rule, as he before did reign; - If smooth and unperplex'd the seasons were, - As when the sweet Maria lived here; - I should delight to have my curls half drown'd - In Tyrian dews, and head with roses crown'd: - And once more yet, ere I am laid out dead, - Knock at a star with my exalted head. - - - - -69. ON HIMSELF - - A wearied pilgrim I have wander'd here, - Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year; - Long I have lasted in this world; 'tis true - But yet those years that I have lived, but few. - Who by his gray hairs doth his lustres tell, - Lives not those years, but he that lives them well: - One man has reach'd his sixty years, but he - Of all those three-score has not lived half three: - He lives who lives to virtue; men who cast - Their ends for pleasure, do not live, but last. - - - - -70. HIS WINDING-SHEET - - Come thou, who art the wine and wit - Of all I've writ; - The grace, the glory, and the best - Piece of the rest; - Thou art of what I did intend - The All, and End; - And what was made, was made to meet. - Thee, thee my sheet. - Come then, and be to my chaste side - Both bed and bride. - We two, as reliques left, will have - One rest, one grave; - And, hugging close, we need not fear - Lust entering here, - Where all desires are dead or cold, - As is the mould; - And all affections are forgot, - Or trouble not. - Here, here the slaves and prisoners be - From shackles free; - And weeping widows, long opprest, - Do here find rest. - The wronged client ends his laws - Here, and his cause; - Here those long suits of Chancery lie - Quiet, or die; - And all Star-chamber bills do cease, - Or hold their peace. - Here needs no court for our Request - Where all are best; - All wise, all equal, and all just - Alike i'th' dust. - Nor need we here to fear the frown - Of court or crown; - Where fortune bears no sway o'er things, - There all are kings. - In this securer place we'll keep, - As lull'd asleep; - Or for a little time we'll lie, - As robes laid by, - To be another day re-worn, - Turn'd, but not torn; - Or like old testaments engrost, - Lock'd up, not lost; - And for a-while lie here conceal'd, - To be reveal'd - Next, at that great Platonic year, - And then meet here. - - - - -71. ANACREONTIC - - Born I was to be old, - And for to die here; - After that, in the mould - Long for to lie here. - But before that day comes, - Still I be bousing; - For I know, in the tombs - There's no carousing. - - - - -72. TO LAURELS - - A funeral stone - Or verse, I covet none; - But only crave - Of you that I may have - A sacred laurel springing from my grave: - Which being seen - Blest with perpetual green, - May grow to be - Not so much call'd a tree, - As the eternal monument of me. - - - - -73. ON HIMSELF - - Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light; - And weep for me, lost in an endless night; - Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me, - Who writ for many. BENEDICTE. - - - - -74. ON HIMSELF - - Lost to the world; lost to myself; alone - Here now I rest under this marble stone, - In depth of silence, heard and seen of none. - - - - -75. TO ROBIN RED-BREAST - - Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be - With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; - And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, - Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister! - For epitaph, in foliage, next write this: - HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS! - - - - -76. THE OLIVE BRANCH - - Sadly I walk'd within the field, - To see what comfort it would yield; - And as I went my private way, - An olive-branch before me lay; - And seeing it, I made a stay, - And took it up, and view'd it; then - Kissing the omen, said Amen; - Be, be it so, and let this be - A divination unto me; - That in short time my woes shall cease, - And love shall crown my end with peace. - - - - -77. THE PLAUDITE, OR END OF LIFE - - If after rude and boisterous seas - My wearied pinnace here finds ease; - If so it be I've gain'd the shore, - With safety of a faithful oar; - If having run my barque on ground, - Ye see the aged vessel crown'd; - What's to be done? but on the sands - Ye dance and sing, and now clap hands. - --The first act's doubtful, but (we say) - It is the last commends the Play. - - - - - -AMORES - -78. TO GROVES - - Ye silent shades, whose each tree here - Some relique of a saint doth wear; - Who for some sweet-heart's sake, did prove - The fire and martyrdom of Love:-- - Here is the legend of those saints - That died for love, and their complaints; - Their wounded hearts, and names we find - Encarved upon the leaves and rind. - Give way, give way to me, who come - Scorch'd with the self-same martyrdom! - And have deserved as much, Love knows, - As to be canonized 'mongst those - Whose deeds and deaths here written are - Within your Greeny-kalendar. - --By all those virgins' fillets hung - Upon! your boughs, and requiems sung - For saints and souls departed hence, - Here honour'd still with frankincense; - By all those tears that have been shed, - As a drink-offering to the dead; - By all those true-love knots, that be - With mottoes carved on every tree; - By sweet Saint Phillis! pity me; - By dear Saint Iphis! and the rest - Of all those other saints now blest, - Me, me forsaken,--here admit - Among your myrtles to be writ; - That my poor name may have the glory - To live remember'd in your story. - - - - - -AMORES - - - - -79. MRS ELIZ: WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF THE LOST SHEPHERDESS - - Among the myrtles as I walk'd - Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd: - Tell me, said I, in deep distress, - Where I may find my Shepherdess? - --Thou fool, said Love, know'st thou not this? - In every thing that's sweet she is. - In yond' carnation go and seek, - There thou shalt find her lip and cheek; - In that enamell'd pansy by, - There thou shalt have her curious eye; - In bloom of peach and rose's bud, - There waves the streamer of her blood. - --'Tis true, said I; and thereupon - I went to pluck them one by one, - To make of parts an union; - But on a sudden all were gone. - At which I stopp'd; Said Love, these be - The true resemblances of thee; - For as these flowers, thy joys must die; - And in the turning of an eye; - And all thy hopes of her must wither, - Like those short sweets here knit together. - - - - -80. A VOW TO VENUS - - Happily I had a sight - Of my dearest dear last night; - Make her this day smile on me, - And I'll roses give to thee! - - - - -81. UPON LOVE - - A crystal vial Cupid brought, - Which had a juice in it: - Of which who drank, he said, no thought - Of Love he should admit. - - I, greedy of the prize, did drink, - And emptied soon the glass; - Which burnt me so, that I do think - The fire of hell it was. - - Give me my earthen cups again, - The crystal I contemn, - Which, though enchased with pearls, contain - A deadly draught in them. - - And thou, O Cupid! come not to - My threshold,--since I see, - For all I have, or else can do, - Thou still wilt cozen me. - - - - -82. UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES - - Whenas in silks my Julia goes, - Till, then, methinks, how sweetly flows - That liquefaction of her clothes! - Next, when I cast mine eyes, and see - That brave vibration each way free; - O how that glittering taketh me! - - - - -83. THE BRACELET TO JULIA - - Why I tie about thy wrist, - Julia, this my silken twist? - For what other reason is't, - But to shew thee how in part - Thou my pretty captive art? - But thy bond-slave is my heart; - 'Tis but silk that bindeth thee, - Knap the thread and thou art free; - But 'tis otherwise with me; - I am bound, and fast bound so, - That from thee I cannot go; - If I could, I would not so. - - - - -84. UPON JULIA'S RIBBON - - As shews the air when with a rain-bow graced, - So smiles that ribbon 'bout my Julia's waist; - Or like----Nay, 'tis that Zonulet of love, - Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove. - - - - -85. TO JULIA - - How rich and pleasing thou, my Julia, art, - In each thy dainty and peculiar part! - First, for thy Queen-ship on thy head is set - Of flowers a sweet commingled coronet; - About thy neck a carkanet is bound, - Made of the Ruby, Pearl, and Diamond; - A golden ring, that shines upon thy thumb; - About thy wrist the rich Dardanium; - Between thy breasts, than down of swans more white, - There plays the Sapphire with the Chrysolite. - No part besides must of thyself be known, - But by the Topaz, Opal, Calcedon. - - - - -86. ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA - - When I behold a forest spread - With silken trees upon thy head; - And when I see that other dress - Of flowers set in comeliness; - When I behold another grace - In the ascent of curious lace, - Which, like a pinnacle, doth shew - The top, and the top-gallant too; - Then, when I see thy tresses bound - Into an oval, square, or round, - And knit in knots far more than I. - Can tell by tongue, or True-love tie; - Next, when those lawny films I see - Play with a wild civility; - And all those airy silks to flow, - Alluring me, and tempting so-- - I must confess, mine eye and heart - Dotes less on nature than on art. - - - - -87. HER BED - - See'st thou that cloud as silver clear, - Plump, soft, and swelling every where? - 'Tis Julia's bed, and she sleeps there. - - - - -88. THE ROCK OF RUBIES, AND THE QUARRY OF PEARLS - - Some ask'd me where the Rubies grew: - And nothing I did say, - But with my finger pointed to - The lips of Julia. - Some ask'd how Pearls did grow, and where: - Then spoke I to my girl, - To part her lips, and shew me there - The quarrelets of Pearl. - - - - -89. THE PARLIAMENT OF ROSES TO JULIA - - I dreamt the Roses one time went - To meet and sit in Parliament; - The place for these, and for the rest - Of flowers, was thy spotless breast. - Over the which a state was drawn - Of tiffany, or cob-web lawn; - Then in that Parly all those powers - Voted the Rose the Queen of flowers; - But so, as that herself should be - The Maid of Honour unto thee. - - - - -90. UPON JULIA'S RECOVERY - - Droop, droop no more, or hang the head, - Ye roses almost withered; - Now strength, and newer purple get, - Each here declining violet. - O primroses! let this day be - A resurrection unto ye; - And to all flowers allied in blood, - Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood. - For health on Julia's cheek hath shed - Claret and cream commingled; - And those, her lips, do now appear - As beams of coral, but more clear. - - - - -91. UPON JULIA'S HAIR FILLED WITH DEW - - Dew sate on Julia's hair, - And spangled too, - Like leaves that laden are - With trembling dew; - Or glitter'd to my sight, - As when the beams - Have their reflected light - Danced by the streams. - - - - -92. CHERRY RIPE - - Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, - Full and fair ones; come, and buy: - If so be you ask me where - They do grow? I answer, there - Where my Julia's lips do smile;-- - There's the land, or cherry-isle; - Whose plantations fully show - All the year where cherries grow. - - - - -93. THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER - - As Julia once a-slumb'ring lay, - It chanced a bee did fly that way, - After a dew, or dew-like shower, - To tipple freely in a flower; - For some rich flower, he took the lip - Of Julia, and began to sip; - But when he felt he suck'd from thence - Honey, and in the quintessence, - He drank so much he scarce could stir; - So Julia took the pilferer. - And thus surprised, as filchers use, - He thus began himself t'excuse: - 'Sweet lady-flower, I never brought - Hither the least one thieving thought; - But taking those rare lips of yours - For some fresh, fragrant, luscious flowers, - I thought I might there take a taste, - Where so much sirup ran at waste. - Besides, know this, I never sting - The flower that gives me nourishing; - But with a kiss, or thanks, do pay - For honey that I bear away.' - --This said, he laid his little scrip - Of honey 'fore her ladyship, - And told her, as some tears did fall, - That, that he took, and that was all. - At which she smiled, and bade him go - And take his bag; but thus much know, - When next he came a-pilfering so, - He should from her full lips derive - Honey enough to fill his hive. - - - - -94. UPON ROSES - - Under a lawn, than skies more clear, - Some ruffled Roses nestling were, - And snugging there, they seem'd to lie - As in a flowery nunnery; - They blush'd, and look'd more fresh than flowers - Quickened of late by pearly showers; - And all, because they were possest - But of the heat of Julia's breast, - Which, as a warm and moisten'd spring, - Gave them their ever-flourishing. - - - - -95. HOW HIS SOUL CAME ENSNARED - - My soul would one day go and seek - For roses, and in Julia's cheek - A richess of those sweets she found, - As in another Rosamond; - But gathering roses as she was, - Not knowing what would come to pass, - it chanced a ringlet of her hair - Caught my poor soul, as in a snare; - Which ever since has been in thrall; - --Yet freedom she enjoys withal. - - - - -96. UPON JULIA'S VOICE - - When I thy singing next shall hear, - I'll wish I might turn all to ear, - To drink-in notes and numbers, such - As blessed souls can't hear too much - Then melted down, there let me lie - Entranced, and lost confusedly; - And by thy music strucken mute, - Die, and be turn'd into a Lute. - - - - -97. THE NIGHT PIECE: TO JULIA - - Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, - The shooting stars attend thee; - And the elves also, - Whose little eyes glow - Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. - - No Will-o'th'-Wisp mis-light thee, - Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee; - But on, on thy way, - Not making a stay, - Since ghost there's none to affright thee. - - Let not the dark thee cumber; - What though the moon does slumber? - The stars of the night - Will lend thee their light, - Like tapers clear, without number. - - Then, Julia, let me woo thee, - Thus, thus to come unto me; - And when I shall meet - Thy silvery feet, - My soul I'll pour into thee. - - - - -98. HIS COVENANT OR PROTESTATION TO JULIA - - Why dost thou wound and break my heart, - As if we should for ever part? - Hast thou not heard an oath from me, - After a day, or two, or three, - I would come back and live with thee? - Take, if thou dost distrust that vow, - This second protestation now:-- - Upon thy cheek that spangled tear, - Which sits as dew of roses there, - That tear shall scarce be dried before - I'll kiss the threshold of thy door; - Then weep not, Sweet, but thus much know,-- - I'm half returned before I go. - - - - -99. HIS SAILING FROM JULIA - - When that day comes, whose evening says I'm gone - Unto that watery desolation; - Devoutly to thy Closet-gods then pray, - That my wing'd ship may meet no Remora. - Those deities which circum-walk the seas, - And look upon our dreadful passages, - Will from all dangers re-deliver me, - For one drink-offering poured out by thee, - Mercy and Truth live with thee! and forbear, - In my short absence, to unsluice a tear; - But yet for love's-sake, let thy lips do this,-- - Give my dead picture one engendering kiss; - Work that to life, and let me ever dwell - In thy remembrance, Julia. So farewell. - - - - -100. HIS LAST REQUEST TO JULIA - - I have been wanton, and too bold, I fear, - To chafe o'er-much the virgin's cheek or ear;-- - Beg for my pardon, Julia! he doth win - Grace with the gods who's sorry for his sin. - That done, my Julia, dearest Julia, come, - And go with me to chuse my burial room: - My fates are ended; when thy Herrick dies, - Clasp thou his book, then close thou up his eyes. - - - - -101. THE TRANSFIGURATION - - Immortal clothing I put on - So soon as, Julia, I am gone - To mine eternal mansion. - - Thou, thou art here, to human sight - Clothed all with incorrupted light; - --But yet how more admir'dly bright - - Wilt thou appear, when thou art set - In thy refulgent thronelet, - That shin'st thus in thy counterfeit! - - - - -102. LOVE DISLIKES NOTHING - - Whatsoever thing I see, - Rich or poor although it be, - --'Tis a mistress unto me. - - Be my girl or fair or brown, - Does she smile, or does she frown; - Still I write a sweet-heart down. - - Be she rough, or smooth of skin; - When I touch, I then begin - For to let affection in. - - Be she bald, or does she wear - Locks incurl'd of other hair; - I shall find enchantment there. - - Be she whole, or be she rent, - So my fancy be content, - She's to me most excellent. - - Be she fat, or be she lean; - Be she sluttish, be she clean; - I'm a man for every scene. - - - - -103. UPON LOVE - - I held Love's head while it did ache; - But so it chanced to be, - The cruel pain did his forsake, - And forthwith came to me. - - Ai me! how shall my grief be still'd? - Or where else shall we find - One like to me, who must be kill'd - For being too-too-kind? - - - - -104. TO DIANEME - - I could but see thee yesterday - Stung by a fretful bee; - And I the javelin suck'd away, - And heal'd the wound in thee. - - A thousand thorns, and briars, and stings - I have in my poor breast; - Yet ne'er can see that salve which brings - My passions any rest. - - As Love shall help me, I admire - How thou canst sit and smile - To see me bleed, and not desire - To staunch the blood the while. - - If thou, composed of gentle mould, - Art so unkind to me; - What dismal stories will be told - Of those that cruel be! - - - - -105. TO PERENNA - - When I thy parts run o'er, I can't espy - In any one, the least indecency; - But every line and limb diffused thence - A fair and unfamiliar excellence; - So that the more I look, the more I prove - There's still more cause why I the more should love. - - - - -106. TO OENONE. - - What conscience, say, is it in thee, - When I a heart had one, [won] - To take away that heart from me, - And to retain thy own? - - For shame or pity, now incline - To play a loving part; - Either to send me kindly thine, - Or give me back my heart. - - Covet not both; but if thou dost - Resolve to part with neither; - Why! yet to shew that thou art just, - Take me and mine together. - - - - -107. TO ELECTRA - - I dare not ask a kiss, - I dare not beg a smile; - Lest having that, or this, - I might grow proud the while. - - No, no, the utmost share - Of my desire shall be, - Only to kiss that air - That lately kissed thee, - - - - -108. TO ANTHEA, WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANY THING - - Bid me to live, and I will live - Thy Protestant to be; - Or bid me love, and I will give - A loving heart to thee. - - A heart as soft, a heart as kind, - A heart as sound and free - As in the whole world thou canst find, - That heart I'll give to thee. - - Bid that heart stay, and it will stay - To honour thy decree; - Or bid it languish quite away, - And't shall do so for thee. - - Bid me to weep, and I will weep, - While I have eyes to see; - And having none, yet I will keep - A heart to weep for thee. - - Bid me despair, and I'll despair, - Under that cypress tree; - Or bid me die, and I will dare - E'en death, to die for thee. - - --Thou art my life, my love, my heart, - The very eyes of me; - And hast command of every part, - To live and die for thee. - - - - -109. ANTHEA'S RETRACTATION - - Anthea laugh'd, and, fearing lest excess - Might stretch the cords of civil comeliness - She with a dainty blush rebuked her face, - And call'd each line back to his rule and space. - - - - -110. LOVE LIGHTLY PLEASED - - Let fair or foul my mistress be, - Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me; - Or let her walk, or stand, or sit, - The posture her's, I'm pleased with it; - Or let her tongue be still, or stir - Graceful is every thing from her; - Or let her grant, or else deny, - My love will fit each history. - - - - -111. TO DIANEME - - Give me one kiss, - And no more: - If so be, this - Makes you poor - To enrich you, - I'll restore - For that one, two- - Thousand score. - - - - -112. UPON HER EYES - - Clear are her eyes, - Like purest skies; - Discovering from thence - A baby there - That turns each sphere, - Like an Intelligence. - - - - -113. UPON HER FEET - - Her pretty feet - Like snails did creep - A little out, and then, - As if they played at Bo-peep, - Did soon draw in again. - - - - -114. UPON A DELAYING LADY - - Come, come away - Or let me go; - Must I here stay - Because you're slow, - And will continue so; - --Troth, lady, no. - - I scorn to be - A slave to state; - And since I'm free, - I will not wait, - Henceforth at such a rate, - For needy fate. - - If you desire - My spark should glow, - The peeping fire - You must blow; - Or I shall quickly grow - To frost, or snow. - - - - -115. THE CRUEL MAID - - --AND, cruel maid, because I see - You scornful of my love, and me, - I'll trouble you no more, but go - My way, where you shall never know - What is become of me; there I - Will find me out a path to die, - Or learn some way how to forget - You and your name for ever;--yet - Ere I go hence, know this from me, - What will in time your fortune be; - This to your coyness I will tell; - And having spoke it once, Farewell. - --The lily will not long endure, - Nor the snow continue pure; - The rose, the violet, one day - See both these lady-flowers decay; - And you must fade as well as they. - And it may chance that love may turn, - And, like to mine, make your heart burn - And weep to see't; yet this thing do, - That my last vow commends to you; - When you shall see that I am dead, - For pity let a tear be shed; - And, with your mantle o'er me cast, - Give my cold lips a kiss at last; - If twice you kiss, you need not fear - That I shall stir or live more here. - Next hollow out a tomb to cover - Me, me, the most despised lover; - And write thereon, THIS, READER, KNOW; - LOVE KILL'D THIS MAN. No more, but so. - - - - -116. TO HIS MISTRESS, OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER TOYING OR TALKING - - You say I love not, 'cause I do not play - Still with your curls, and kiss the time away. - You blame me, too, because I can't devise - Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes; - By Love's religion, I must here confess it, - The most I love, when I the least express it. - Shall griefs find tongues; full casks are ever found - To give, if any, yet but little sound. - Deep waters noiseless are; and this we know, - That chiding streams betray small depth below. - So when love speechless is, she doth express - A depth in love, and that depth bottomless. - Now, since my love is tongueless, know me such, - Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much. - - - - -117. IMPOSSIBILITIES: TO HIS FRIEND - - My faithful friend, if you can see - The fruit to grow up, or the tree; - If you can see the colour come - Into the blushing pear or plum; - If you can see the water grow - To cakes of ice, or flakes of snow; - If you can see that drop of rain - Lost in the wild sea once again; - If you can see how dreams do creep - Into the brain by easy sleep:-- - --Then there is hope that you may see - Her love me once, who now hates me. - - - - -118. THE BUBBLE: A SONG - - To my revenge, and to her desperate fears, - Fly, thou made bubble of my sighs and tears! - In the wild air, when thou hast roll'd about, - And, like a blasting planet, found her out; - Stoop, mount, pass by to take her eye--then glare - Like to a dreadful comet in the air: - Next, when thou dost perceive her fixed sight - For thy revenge to be most opposite, - Then, like a globe, or ball of wild-fire, fly, - And break thyself in shivers on her eye! - - - - -119. DELIGHT IN DISORDER - - A sweet disorder in the dress - Kindles in clothes a wantonness; - A lawn about the shoulders thrown - Into a fine distraction; - An erring lace, which here and there - Enthrals the crimson stomacher; - A cuff neglectful, and thereby - Ribbons to flow confusedly; - A winning wave, deserving note, - In the tempestuous petticoat; - A careless shoe-string, in whose tie - I see a wild civility;-- - Do more bewitch me, than when art - Is too precise in every part. - - - - -120. TO SILVIA - - Pardon my trespass, Silvia! I confess - My kiss out-went the bounds of shamefacedness:-- - None is discreet at all times; no, not Jove - Himself, at one time, can be wise and love. - - - - -121. TO SILVIA TO WED - - Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed; - And loving lie in one devoted bed. - Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post haste; - No sound calls back the year that once is past. - Then, sweetest Silvia, let's no longer stay; - True love, we know, precipitates delay. - Away with doubts, all scruples hence remove! - No man, at one time, can be wise, and love. - - - - -122. BARLEY-BREAK; OR, LAST IN HELL - - We two are last in hell; what may we fear - To be tormented or kept pris'ners here I - Alas! if kissing be of plagues the worst, - We'll wish in hell we had been last and first. - - - - -123. ON A PERFUMED LADY - - You say you're sweet: how should we know - Whether that you be sweet or no? - --From powders and perfumes keep free; - Then we shall smell how sweet you be! - - - - -124. THE PARCAE; OR, THREE DAINTY DESTINIES: - THE ARMILET - - Three lovely sisters working were, - As they were closely set, - Of soft and dainty maiden-hair, - A curious Armilet. - I, smiling, ask'd them what they did, - Fair Destinies all three? - Who told me they had drawn a thread - Of life, and 'twas for me. - They shew'd me then how fine 'twas spun - And I replied thereto; - 'I care not now how soon 'tis done, - Or cut, if cut by you.' - - - - -125. A CONJURATION: TO ELECTRA - - By those soft tods of wool, - With which the air is full; - By all those tinctures there - That paint the hemisphere; - By dews and drizzling rain, - That swell the golden grain; - By all those sweets that be - I'th' flowery nunnery; - By silent nights, and the - Three forms of Hecate; - By all aspects that bless - The sober sorceress, - While juice she strains, and pith - To make her philtres with; - By Time, that hastens on - Things to perfection; - And by your self, the best - Conjurement of the rest; - --O, my Electra! be - In love with none but me. - - - - -126. TO SAPHO - - Sapho, I will chuse to go - Where the northern winds do blow - Endless ice, and endless snow; - Rather than I once would see - But a winter's face in thee,-- - To benumb my hopes and me. - - - - -127. OF LOVE: A SONNET - - How Love came in, I do not know, - Whether by th'eye, or ear, or no; - Or whether with the soul it came, - At first, infused with the same; - Whether in part 'tis here or there, - Or, like the soul, whole every where. - This troubles me; but I as well - As any other, this can tell; - That when from hence she does depart, - The outlet then is from the heart. - - - - -128. TO DIANEME - - Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes, - Which, star-like, sparkle in their skies; - Nor be you proud, that you can see - All hearts your captives, yours, yet free; - Be you not proud of that rich hair - Which wantons with the love-sick air; - Whenas that ruby which you wear, - Sunk from the tip of your soft ear, - Will last to be a precious stone, - When all your world of beauty's gone. - - - - -129. TO DIANEME - - Dear, though to part it be a hell, - Yet, Dianeme, now farewell! - Thy frown last night did bid me go, - But whither, only grief does know. - I do beseech thee, ere we part, - (If merciful, as fair thou art; - Or else desir'st that maids should tell - Thy pity by Love's chronicle) - O, Dianeme, rather kill - Me, than to make me languish still! - 'Tis cruelty in thee to th' height, - Thus, thus to wound, not kill outright; - Yet there's a way found, if thou please, - By sudden death, to give me ease; - And thus devised,--do thou but this, - --Bequeath to me one parting kiss! - So sup'rabundant joy shall be - The executioner of me. - - - - -130. KISSING USURY - - Biancha, let - Me pay the debt - I owe thee for a kiss - Thou lend'st to me; - And I to thee - Will render ten for this. - - If thou wilt say, - Ten will not pay - For that so rich a one; - I'll clear the sum, - If it will come - Unto a million. - - He must of right, - To th' utmost mite, - Make payment for his pleasure, - (By this I guess) - Of happiness - Who has a little measure. - - - - -131. UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES - - I have lost, and lately, these - Many dainty mistresses:-- - Stately Julia, prime of all; - Sapho next, a principal: - Smooth Anthea, for a skin - White, and heaven-like crystalline: - Sweet Electra, and the choice - Myrha, for the lute and voice. - Next, Corinna, for her wit, - And the graceful use of it; - With Perilla:--All are gone; - Only Herrick's left alone, - For to number sorrow by - Their departures hence, and die. - - - - -132. THE WOUNDED HEART - - Come, bring your sampler, and with art - Draw in't a wounded heart, - And dropping here and there; - Not that I think that any dart - Can make your's bleed a tear, - Or pierce it any where; - Yet do it to this end,--that I - May by - This secret see, - Though you can make - That heart to bleed, your's ne'er will ache - For me, - - - - -133. HIS MISTRESS TO HIM AT HIS FAREWELL - - You may vow I'll not forget - To pay the debt - Which to thy memory stands as due - As faith can seal it you. - --Take then tribute of my tears; - So long as I have fears - To prompt me, I shall ever - Languish and look, but thy return see never. - Oh then to lessen my despair, - Print thy lips into the air, - So by this - Means, I may kiss thy kiss, - Whenas some kind - Wind - Shall hither waft it:--And, in lieu, - My lips shall send a thousand back to you. - - - - -134. CRUTCHES - - Thou see'st me, Lucia, this year droop; - Three zodiacs fill'd more, I shall stoop; - Let crutches then provided be - To shore up my debility: - Then, while thou laugh'st, I'll sighing cry, - A ruin underpropt am I: - Don will I then my beadsman's gown; - And when so feeble I am grown - As my weak shoulders cannot bear - The burden of a grasshopper; - Yet with the bench of aged sires, - When I and they keep termly fires, - With my weak voice I'll sing, or say - Some odes I made of Lucia;-- - Then will I heave my wither'd hand - To Jove the mighty, for to stand - Thy faithful friend, and to pour down - Upon thee many a benison. - - - - -135. TO ANTHEA - - Anthea, I am going hence - With some small stock of innocence; - But yet those blessed gates I see - Withstanding entrance unto me; - To pray for me do thou begin;-- - The porter then will let me in. - - - - -136. TO ANTHEA - - Now is the time when all the lights wax dim; - And thou, Anthea, must withdraw from him - Who was thy servant: Dearest, bury me - Under that holy-oak, or gospel-tree; - Where, though thou see'st not, thou may'st think upon - Me, when thou yearly go'st procession; - Or, for mine honour, lay me in that tomb - In which thy sacred reliques shall have room; - For my embalming, Sweetest, there will be - No spices wanting, when I'm laid by thee. - - - - -137. TO HIS LOVELY MISTRESSES - - One night i'th' year, my dearest Beauties, come, - And bring those dew-drink-offerings to my tomb; - When thence ye see my reverend ghost to rise, - And there to lick th' effused sacrifice, - Though paleness be the livery that I wear, - Look ye not wan or colourless for fear. - Trust me, I will not hurt ye, or once show - The least grim look, or cast a frown on you; - Nor shall the tapers, when I'm there, burn blue. - This I may do, perhaps, as I glide by,-- - Cast on my girls a glance, and loving eye; - Or fold mine arms, and sigh, because I've lost - The world so soon, and in it, you the most: - --Than these, no fears more on your fancies fall, - Though then I smile, and speak no words at all. - - - - -138. TO PERlLLA - - Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve to see - Me, day by day, to steal away from thee? - Age calls me hence, and my gray hairs bid come, - And haste away to mine eternal home; - 'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this, - That I must give thee the supremest kiss:-- - Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring - Part of the cream from that religious spring, - With which, Perilla, wash my hands and feet; - That done, then wind me in that very sheet - Which wrapt thy smooth limbs, when thou didst implore - The Gods' protection, but the night before; - Follow me weeping to my turf, and there - Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear: - Then lastly, let some weekly strewings be - Devoted to the memory of me; - Then shall my ghost not walk about, but keep - Still in the cool and silent shades of sleep. - - - - -139. A MEDITATION FOR HIS MISTRESS - - You are a Tulip seen to-day, - But, Dearest, of so short a stay, - That where you grew, scarce man can say. - - You are a lovely July-flower; - Yet one rude wind, or ruffling shower, - Will force you hence, and in an hour. - - You are a sparkling Rose i'th' bud, - Yet lost, ere that chaste flesh and blood - Can show where you or grew or stood. - - You are a full-spread fair-set Vine, - And can with tendrils love entwine; - Yet dried, ere you distil your wine. - - You are like Balm, enclosed well - In amber, or some crystal shell; - Yet lost ere you transfuse your smell. - - You are a dainty Violet; - Yet wither'd, ere you can be set - Within the virgins coronet. - - You are the Queen all flowers among; - But die you must, fair maid, ere long, - As he, the maker of this song. - - - - -140. TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME - - Gather ye rose-buds while ye may: - Old Time is still a-flying; - And this same flower that smiles to-day, - To-morrow will be dying. - - The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, - The higher he's a-getting, - The sooner will his race be run, - And nearer he's to setting. - - That age is best, which is the first, - When youth and blood are warmer; - But being spent, the worse, and worst - Times, still succeed the former. - - --Then be not coy, but use your time, - And while ye may, go marry; - For having lost but once your prime, - You may for ever tarry. - - - - - -EPIGRAMS - - - - -141. POSTING TO PRINTING - - Let others to the printing-press run fast; - Since after death comes glory, I'll not haste. - - - - -142. HIS LOSS - - All has been plunder'd from me but my wit: - Fortune herself can lay no claim to it. - - - - -143. THINGS MORTAL STILL MUTABLE - - Things are uncertain; and the more we get, - The more on icy pavements we are set. - - - - -144. NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY - - No man such rare parts hath, that he can swim, - If favour or occasion help not him. - - - - -145. THE PRESENT TIME BEST PLEASETH - - Praise, they that will, times past: I joy to see - Myself now live; this age best pleaseth me! - - - - -146. WANT - - Want is a softer wax, that takes thereon, - This, that, and every base impression, - - - - -147. SATISFACTION FOR SUFFERINGS - - For all our works a recompence is sure; - 'Tis sweet to think on what was hard t'endure. - - - - -148. WRITING - - When words we want, Love teacheth to indite; - And what we blush to speak, she bids us write. - - - - -149. THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY - - Beauty no other thing is, than a beam - Flash'd out between the middle and extreme. - - - - -150. A MEAN IN OUR MEANS - - Though frankincense the deities require, - We must not give all to the hallow'd fire. - Such be our gifts, and such be our expense, - As for ourselves to leave some frankincense. - - - - -151. MONEY MAKES THE MIRTH - - When all birds else do of their music fail, - Money's the still-sweet-singing nightingale! - - - - -152. TEARS AND LAUGHTER - - Knew'st thou one month would take thy life away, - Thou'dst weep; but laugh, should it not last a day. - - - - -153. UPON TEARS - - Tears, though they're here below the sinner's brine, - Above, they are the Angels' spiced wine. - - - - -154. ON LOVE - - Love's of itself too sweet; the best of all - Is, when love's honey has a dash of gall. - - - - -155. PEACE NOT PERMANENT - - Great cities seldom rest; if there be none - T' invade from far, they'll find worse foes at home. - - - - -156. PARDONS - - Those ends in war the best contentment bring, - Whose peace is made up with a pardoning. - - - - -157. TRUTH AND ERROR - - Twixt truth and error, there's this difference known - Error is fruitful, truth is only one. - - - - -158. WlT PUNISHED PROSPERS MOST - - Dread not the shackles; on with thine intent, - Good wits get more fame by their punishment. - - - - -159. BURIAL - - Man may want land to live in; but for all - Nature finds out some place for burial. - - - - -160. NO PAINS, NO GAINS - - If little labour, little are our gains; - Man's fortunes are according to his pains. - - - - -161. TO YOUTH - - Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may; - The morrow's life too late is; Live to-day. - - - - -162. TO ENJOY THE TIME - - While fates permit us, let's be merry; - Pass all we must the fatal ferry; - And this our life, too, whirls away, - With the rotation of the day. - - - - -163. FELICITY QUICK OF FLIGHT - - Every time seems short to be - That's measured by felicity; - But one half-hour that's made up here - With grief, seems longer than a year. - - - - -164. MIRTH - - True mirth resides not in the smiling skin; - The sweetest solace is to act no sin. - - - - -165. THE HEART - - In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part - Without the sweet concurrence of the heart. - - - - -166. LOVE, WHAT IT IS - - Love is a circle, that doth restless move - In the same sweet eternity of Love. - - - - -167. DREAMS - - Here we are all, by day; by night we're hurl'd - By dreams, each one into a several world. - - - - -168. AMBITION - - In man, ambition is the common'st thing; - Each one by nature loves to be a king. - - - - -169. SAFETY ON THE SHORE - - What though the sea be calm? Trust to the shore; - Ships have been drown'd, where late they danced before. - - - - -170. UPON A PAINTED GENTLEWOMAN - - Men say you're fair; and fair ye are, 'tis true; - But, hark! we praise the painter now, not you. - - - - -171. UPON WRINKLES - - Wrinkles no more are, or no less, - Than beauty turn'd to sourness. - - - - -172. CASUALTIES - - Good things, that come of course, far less do please - Than those which come by sweet contingencies. - - - - -173. TO LIVE FREELY - - Let's live in haste; use pleasures while we may; - Could life return, 'twould never lose a day. - - - - -174. NOTHING FREE-COST - - Nothing comes free-cost here; Jove will not let - His gifts go from him, if not bought with sweat. - - - - -175. MAN'S DYING-PLACE UNCERTAIN - - Man knows where first he ships himself; but he - Never can tell where shall his landing be. - - - - -176. LOSS FROM THE LEAST - - Great men by small means oft are overthrown; - He's lord of thy life, who contemns his own. - - - - -177. POVERTY AND RICHES - - Who with a little cannot be content, - Endures an everlasting punishment. - - - - -178. UPON MAN - - Man is composed here of a twofold part; - The first of nature, and the next of art; - Art presupposes nature; nature, she - Prepares the way for man's docility. - - - - -179. PURPOSES - - No wrath of men, or rage of seas, - Can shake a just man's purposes; - No threats of tyrants, or the grim - Visage of them can alter him; - But what he doth at first intend, - That he holds firmly to the end. - - - - -180. FOUR THINGS MAKE US HAPPY HERE - - Health is the first good lent to men; - A gentle disposition then: - Next, to be rich by no by-ways; - Lastly, with friends t' enjoy our days. - - - - -181. THE WATCH - - Man is a watch, wound up at first, but never - Wound up again; Once down, he's down for ever. - The watch once down, all motions then do cease; - The man's pulse stopt, all passions sleep in peace. - - - - -182. UPON THE DETRACTER - - I ask'd thee oft what poets thou hast read, - And lik'st the best? Still thou repli'st, The dead. - --I shall, ere long, with green turfs cover'd be; - Then sure thou'lt like, or thou wilt envy, me. - - - - -183. ON HIMSELF - - Live by thy Muse thou shalt, when others die, - Leaving no fame to long posterity; - When monarchies trans-shifted are, and gone, - Here shall endure thy vast dominion. - - - - - -NATURE AND LIFE - -184. I CALL AND I CALL - - I call, I call: who do ye call? - The maids to catch this cowslip ball! - But since these cowslips fading be, - Troth, leave the flowers, and maids, take me! - Yet, if that neither you will do, - Speak but the word, and I'll take you, - - - - -185. THE SUCCESSION OF THE FOUR SWEET MONTHS - - First, April, she with mellow showers - Opens the way for early flowers; - Then after her comes smiling May, - In a more rich and sweet array; - Next enters June, and brings us more - Gems than those two that went before; - Then, lastly, July comes, and she - More wealth brings in than all those three. - - - - -186. TO BLOSSOMS - - Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, - Why do ye fall so fast? - Your date is not so past, - But you may stay yet here a-while, - To blush and gently smile; - And go at last. - - What, were ye born to be - An hour or half's delight; - And so to bid good-night? - 'Twas pity Nature brought ye forth, - Merely to show your worth, - And lose you quite. - - But you are lovely leaves, where we - May read how soon things have - Their end, though ne'er so brave: - And after they have shown their pride, - Like you, a-while;--they glide - Into the grave. - - - - -187. THE SHOWER OF BLOSSOMS - - Love in a shower of blossoms came - Down, and half drown'd me with the same; - The blooms that fell were white and red; - But with such sweets commingled, - As whether (this) I cannot tell, - My sight was pleased more, or my smell; - But true it was, as I roll'd there, - Without a thought of hurt or fear, - Love turn'd himself into a bee, - And with his javelin wounded me;--- - From which mishap this use I make; - Where most sweets are, there lies a snake; - Kisses and favours are sweet things; - But those have thorns, and these have stings. - - - - -188. TO THE ROSE: SONG - - Go, happy Rose, and interwove - With other flowers, bind my Love. - Tell her, too, she must not be - Longer flowing, longer free, - That so oft has fetter'd me. - - Say, if she's fretful, I have bands - Of pearl and gold, to bind her hands; - Tell her, if she struggle still, - I have myrtle rods at will, - For to tame, though not to kill. - - Take thou my blessing thus, and go - And tell her this,--but do not so!-- - Lest a handsome anger fly - Like a lightning from her eye, - And burn thee up, as well as I! - - - - -189. THE FUNERAL RITES OF THE ROSE - - The Rose was sick, and smiling died; - And, being to be sanctified, - About the bed, there sighing stood - The sweet and flowery sisterhood. - Some hung the head, while some did bring, - To wash her, water from the spring; - Some laid her forth, while others wept, - But all a solemn fast there kept. - The holy sisters some among, - The sacred dirge and trental sung; - But ah! what sweets smelt everywhere, - As heaven had spent all perfumes there! - At last, when prayers for the dead, - And rites, were all accomplished, - They, weeping, spread a lawny loom, - And closed her up as in a tomb. - - - - -190. THE BLEEDING HAND; - OR THE SPRIG OF EGLANTINE GIVEN TO A MAID - - From this bleeding hand of mine, - Take this sprig of Eglantine: - Which, though sweet unto your smell, - Yet the fretful briar will tell, - He who plucks the sweets, shall prove - Many thorns to be in love. - - - - -191. TO CARNATIONS: A SONG - - Stay while ye will, or go, - And leave no scent behind ye: - Yet trust me, I shall know - The place where I may find ye. - - Within my Lucia's cheek, - (Whose livery ye wear) - Play ye at hide or seek, - I'm sure to find ye there. - - - - -192. TO PANSIES - - Ah, Cruel Love! must I endure - Thy many scorns, and find no cure? - Say, are thy medicines made to be - Helps to all others but to me? - I'll leave thee, and to Pansies come: - Comforts you'll afford me some: - You can ease my heart, and do - What Love could ne'er be brought unto. - - - - -193. HOW PANSIES OR HEARTS-EASE CAME FIRST - - Frolic virgins once these were, - Overloving, living here; - Being here their ends denied - Ran for sweet-hearts mad, and died. - Love, in pity of their tears, - And their loss in blooming years, - For their restless here-spent hours, - Gave them hearts-ease turn'd to flowers. - - - - -194. WHY FLOWERS CHANGE COLOUR - - These fresh beauties, we can prove, - Once were virgins, sick of love, - Turn'd to flowers: still in some, - Colours go and colours come. - - - - -195. THE PRIMROSE - - Ask me why I send you here - This sweet Infanta of the year? - Ask me why I send to you - This Primrose, thus bepearl'd with dew? - I will whisper to your ears,-- - The sweets of love are mixt with tears. - - Ask me why this flower does show - So yellow-green, and sickly too? - Ask me why the stalk is weak - And bending, yet it doth not break? - I will answer,--these discover - What fainting hopes are in a lover. - - - - -196. TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW - - Why do ye weep, sweet babes? can tears - Speak grief in you, - Who were but born - just as the modest morn - Teem'd her refreshing dew? - Alas, you have not known that shower - That mars a flower, - Nor felt th' unkind - Breath of a blasting wind, - Nor are ye worn with years; - Or warp'd as we, - Who think it strange to see, - Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young, - To speak by tears, before ye have a tongue. - - Speak, whimp'ring younglings, and make known - The reason why - Ye droop and weep; - Is it for want of sleep, - Or childish lullaby? - Or that ye have not seen as yet - The violet? - Or brought a kiss - From that Sweet-heart, to this? - --No, no, this sorrow shown - By your tears shed, - Would have this lecture read, - That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, - Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth. - - - - -197. TO DAISIES, NOT TO SHUT SO SOON - - Shut not so soon; the dull-eyed night - Has not as yet begun - To make a seizure on the light, - Or to seal up the sun. - - No marigolds yet closed are, - No shadows great appear; - Nor doth the early shepherds' star - Shine like a spangle here. - - Stay but till my Julia close - Her life-begetting eye; - And let the whole world then dispose - Itself to live or die. - - - - -198. TO DAFFADILS - - Fair Daffadils, we weep to see - You haste away so soon; - As yet the early-rising sun - Has not attain'd his noon. - Stay, stay, - Until the hasting day - Has run - But to the even-song; - And, having pray'd together, we - Will go with you along. - - We have short time to stay, as you; - We have as short a spring; - As quick a growth to meet decay, - As you, or any thing. - We die - As your hours do, and dry - Away, - Like to the summer's rain; - Or as the pearls of morning's dew, - Ne'er to be found again. - - - - -199. TO VIOLETS - - Welcome, maids of honour, - You do bring - In the Spring; - And wait upon her. - - She has virgins many, - Fresh and fair; - Yet you are - More sweet than any. - - You're the maiden posies; - And so graced, - To be placed - 'Fore damask roses. - - --Yet, though thus respected, - By and by - Ye do lie, - Poor girls, neglected. - - - - -200. THE APRON OF FLOWERS - - To gather flowers, Sappha went, - And homeward she did bring - Within her lawny continent, - The treasure of the Spring. - - She smiling blush'd, and blushing smiled, - And sweetly blushing thus, - She look'd as she'd been got with child - By young Favonius. - - Her apron gave, as she did pass, - An odour more divine, - More pleasing too, than ever was - The lap of Proserpine. - - - - -201. THE LILY IN A CRYSTAL - - You have beheld a smiling rose - When virgins' hands have drawn - O'er it a cobweb-lawn: - And here, you see, this lily shows, - Tomb'd in a crystal stone, - More fair in this transparent case - Than when it grew alone, - And had but single grace. - - You see how cream but naked is, - Nor dances in the eye - Without a strawberry; - Or some fine tincture, like to this, - Which draws the sight thereto, - More by that wantoning with it, - Than when the paler hue - No mixture did admit. - - You see how amber through the streams - More gently strokes the sight, - With some conceal'd delight, - Than when he darts his radiant beams - Into the boundless air; - Where either too much light his worth - Doth all at once impair, - Or set it little forth. - - Put purple grapes or cherries in- - To glass, and they will send - More beauty to commend - Them, from that clean and subtle skin, - Than if they naked stood, - And had no other pride at all, - But their own flesh and blood, - And tinctures natural. - - Thus lily, rose, grape, cherry, cream, - And strawberry do stir - More love, when they transfer - A weak, a soft, a broken beam; - Than if they should discover - At full their proper excellence, - Without some scene cast over, - To juggle with the sense. - - Thus let this crystall'd lily be - A rule, how far to teach - Your nakedness must reach; - And that no further than we see - Those glaring colours laid - By art's wise hand, but to this end - They should obey a shade, - Lest they too far extend. - - --So though you're white as swan or snow, - And have the power to move - A world of men to love; - Yet, when your lawns and silks shall flow, - And that white cloud divide - Into a doubtful twilight;--then, - Then will your hidden pride - Raise greater fires in men. - - - - -202. TO MEADOWS - - Ye have been fresh and green, - Ye have been fill'd with flowers; - And ye the walks have been - Where maids have spent their hours. - - You have beheld how they - With wicker arks did come, - To kiss and bear away - The richer cowslips home. - - You've heard them sweetly sing, - And seen them in a round; - Each virgin, like a spring, - With honeysuckles crown'd. - - But now, we see none here, - Whose silvery feet did tread - And with dishevell'd hair - Adorn'd this smoother mead. - - Like unthrifts, having spent - Your stock, and needy grown - You're left here to lament - Your poor estates alone. - - - - -203. TO A GENTLEWOMAN, OBJECTING TO HIM HIS GRAY HAIRS - - Am I despised, because you say; - And I dare swear, that I am gray? - Know, Lady, you have but your day! - And time will come when you shall wear - Such frost and snow upon your hair; - And when, though long, it comes to pass, - You question with your looking-glass, - And in that sincere crystal seek - But find no rose-bud in your cheek, - Nor any bed to give the shew - Where such a rare carnation grew:- - Ah! then too late, close in your chamber keeping, - It will be told - That you are old,-- - By those true tears you're weeping. - - - - -204. THE CHANGES: TO CORINNA - - Be not proud, but now incline - Your soft ear to discipline; - You have changes in your life, - Sometimes peace, and sometimes strife; - You have ebbs of face and flows, - As your health or comes or goes; - You have hopes, and doubts, and fears, - Numberless as are your hairs; - You have pulses that do beat - High, and passions less of heat; - You are young, but must be old:-- - And, to these, ye must be told, - Time, ere long, will come and plow - Loathed furrows in your brow: - And the dimness of your eye - Will no other thing imply, - But you must die - As well as I. - - - - -205. UPON MRS ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF AMARILLIS - - Sweet Amarillis, by a spring's - Soft and soul-melting murmurings, - Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flew - A Robin-red-breast; who at view, - Not seeing her at all to stir, - Brought leaves and moss to cover her: - But while he, perking, there did pry - About the arch of either eye, - The lid began to let out day,-- - At which poor Robin flew away; - And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved, - He chirpt for joy, to see himself deceived. - - - - -206. NO FAULT IN WOMEN - - No fault in women, to refuse - The offer which they most would chuse. - --No fault: in women, to confess - How tedious they are in their dress; - --No fault in women, to lay on - The tincture of vermilion; - And there to give the cheek a dye - Of white, where Nature doth deny. - --No fault in women, to make show - Of largeness, when they're nothing so; - When, true it is, the outside swells - With inward buckram, little else. - --No fault in women, though they be - But seldom from suspicion free; - --No fault in womankind at all, - If they but slip, and never fall. - - - - -207. THE BAG OF THE BEE - - About the sweet bag of a bee - Two Cupids fell at odds; - And whose the pretty prize should be - They vow'd to ask the Gods. - - Which Venus hearing, thither came, - And for their boldness stript them; - And taking thence from each his flame, - With rods of myrtle whipt them. - - Which done, to still their wanton cries, - When quiet grown she'd seen them, - She kiss'd and wiped their dove-like eyes, - And gave the bag between them. - - - - -208. THE PRESENT; OR, THE BAG OF THE BEE: - - Fly to my mistress, pretty pilfering bee, - And say thou bring'st this honey-bag from me; - When on her lip thou hast thy sweet dew placed, - Mark if her tongue but slyly steal a taste; - If so, we live; if not, with mournful hum, - Toll forth my death; next, to my burial come. - - - - -209. TO THE WATER-NYMPHS DRINKING AT THE FOUNTAIN - - Reach with your whiter hands to me - Some crystal of the spring; - And I about the cup shall see - Fresh lilies flourishing. - - Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this-- - To th' glass your lips incline; - And I shall see by that one kiss - The water turn'd to wine. - - - - -210. HOW SPRINGS CAME FIRST - - These springs were maidens once that loved, - But lost to that they most approved: - My story tells, by Love they were - Turn'd to these springs which we see here: - The pretty whimpering that they make, - When of the banks their leave they take, - Tells ye but this, they are the same, - In nothing changed but in their name. - - - - -211. TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER - - As is your name, so is your comely face - Touch'd every where with such diffused grace, - As that in all that admirable round, - There is not one least solecism found; - And as that part, so every portion else - Keeps line for line with beauty's parallels. - - - - -212. A HYMN TO THE GRACES - - When I love, as some have told - Love I shall, when I am old, - O ye Graces! make me fit - For the welcoming of it! - Clean my rooms, as temples be, - To entertain that deity; - Give me words wherewith to woo, - Suppling and successful too; - Winning postures; and withal, - Manners each way musical; - Sweetness to allay my sour - And unsmooth behaviour: - For I know you have the skill - Vines to prune, though not to kill; - And of any wood ye see, - You can make a Mercury. - - - - -213. A HYMN TO LOVE - - I will confess - With cheerfulness, - Love is a thing so likes me, - That, let her lay - On me all day, - I'll kiss the hand that strikes me. - - I will not, I, - Now blubb'ring cry, - It, ah! too late repents me - That I did fall - To love at all-- - Since love so much contents me. - - No, no, I'll be - In fetters free; - While others they sit wringing - Their hands for pain, - I'll entertain - The wounds of love with singing. - - With flowers and wine, - And cakes divine, - To strike me I will tempt thee; - Which done, no more - I'll come before - Thee and thine altars empty. - - - - -214. UPON LOVE: - BY WAY OF QUESTION AND ANSWER - - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Like, and dislike ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Stroke ye, to strike ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Love will be-fool ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Heat ye, to cool ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Love, gifts will send ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Stock ye, to spend ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Love will fulfil ye. - I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? - ANS. Kiss ye, to kill ye. - - - - -215. LOVERS HOW THEY COME AND PART - - A Gyges ring they bear about them still, - To be, and not seen when and where they will; - They tread on clouds, and though they sometimes fall, - They fall like dew, and make no noise at all: - So silently they one to th' other come, - As colours steal into the pear or plum, - And air-like, leave no pression to be seen - Where'er they met, or parting place has been. - - - - -216. THE KISS: A DIALOGUE - - 1 Among thy fancies, tell me this, - What is the thing we call a kiss? - 2 I shall resolve ye what it is:-- - - It is a creature born and bred - Between the lips, all cherry-red, - By love and warm desires fed,-- - CHOR. And makes more soft the bridal bed. - - 2 It is an active flame, that flies - First to the babies of the eyes, - And charms them there with lullabies,-- - CHOR. And stills the bride, too, when she cries. - - 2 Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear, - It frisks and flies, now here, now there: - 'Tis now far off, and then 'tis near,-- - CHOR. And here, and there, and every where. - - 1 Has it a speaking virtue? 2 Yes. - 1 How speaks it, say? 2 Do you but this,-- - Part your join'd lips, then speaks your kiss; - CHOR. And this Love's sweetest language is. - - 1 Has it a body? 2 Ay, and wings, - With thousand rare encolourings; - And as it flies, it gently sings-- - CHOR. Love honey yields, but never stings. - - - - -217. COMFORT TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE - - What needs complaints, - When she a place - Has with the race - Of saints? - In endless mirth, - She thinks not on - What's said or done - In earth: - She sees no tears, - Or any tone - Of thy deep groan - She hears; - Nor does she mind, - Or think on't now, - That ever thou - Wast kind:-- - But changed above, - She likes not there, - As she did here, - Thy love. - --Forbear, therefore, - And lull asleep - Thy woes, and weep - No more. - - - - -218. ORPHEUS - - Orpheus he went, as poets tell, - To fetch Eurydice from hell; - And had her, but it was upon - This short, but strict condition; - Backward he should not look, while he - Led her through hell's obscurity. - But ah! it happen'd, as he made - His passage through that dreadful shade, - Revolve he did his loving eye, - For gentle fear or jealousy; - And looking back, that look did sever - Him and Eurydice for ever. - - - - -219. A REQUEST TO THE GRACES - - Ponder my words, if so that any be - Known guilty here of incivility; - Let what is graceless, discomposed, and rude, - With sweetness, smoothness, softness be endued: - Teach it to blush, to curtsey, lisp, and show - Demure, but yet full of temptation, too. - Numbers ne'er tickle, or but lightly please, - Unless they have some wanton carriages:-- - This if ye do, each piece will here be good - And graceful made by your neat sisterhood. - - - - -220. A HYMN TO VENUS AND CUPID - - Sea-born goddess, let me be - By thy son thus graced, and thee, - That whene'er I woo, I find - Virgins coy, but not unkind. - Let me, when I kiss a maid, - Taste her lips, so overlaid - With love's sirop, that I may - In your temple, when I pray, - Kiss the altar, and confess - There's in love no bitterness. - - - - -221. TO BACCHUS: A CANTICLE - - Whither dost thou hurry me, - Bacchus, being full of thee? - This way, that way, that way, this,-- - Here and there a fresh Love is; - That doth like me, this doth please; - --Thus a thousand mistresses - I have now: yet I alone, - Having all, enjoy not one! - - - - -222. A HYMN TO BACCHUS - - Bacchus, let me drink no more! - Wild are seas that want a shore! - When our drinking has no stint, - There is no one pleasure in't. - I have drank up for to please - Thee, that great cup, Hercules. - Urge no more; and there shall be - Daffadils giv'n up to thee. - - - - -223. A CANTICLE TO APOLLO - - Play, Phoebus, on thy lute, - And we will sit all mute; - By listening to thy lyre, - That sets all ears on fire. - - Hark, hark! the God does play! - And as he leads the way - Through heaven, the very spheres, - As men, turn all to ears! - - - - -224. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM A SWEET SICK YOUTH - - Charms, that call down the moon from out her sphere, - On this sick youth work your enchantments here! - Bind up his senses with your numbers, so - As to entrance his pain, or cure his woe. - Fall gently, gently, and a-while him keep - Lost in the civil wilderness of sleep: - That done, then let him, dispossess'd of pain, - Like to a slumbering bride, awake again. - - - - -225. TO MUSIC: A SONG - - Music, thou queen of heaven, care-charming spell, - That strik'st a stillness into hell; - Thou that tam'st tigers, and fierce storms, that rise, - With thy soul-melting lullabies; - Fall down, down, down, from those thy chiming spheres - To charm our souls, as thou enchant'st our ears. - - - - -226. SOFT MUSIC - - The mellow touch of music most doth wound - The soul, when it doth rather sigh, than sound. - - - - -227. TO MUSIC - - Begin to charm, and as thou strok'st mine ears - With thine enchantment, melt me into tears. - Then let thy active hand scud o'er thy lyre, - And make my spirits frantic with the fire; - That done, sink down into a silvery strain, - And make me smooth as balm and oil again. - - - - -228. THE VOICE AND VIOL - - Rare is the voice itself: but when we sing - To th' lute or viol, then 'tis ravishing. - - - - -229. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM HIS FEVER - - Charm me asleep, and melt me so - With thy delicious numbers; - That being ravish'd, hence I go - Away in easy slumbers. - Ease my sick head, - And make my bed, - Thou Power that canst sever - From me this ill;-- - And quickly still, - Though thou not kill - My fever. - - Thou sweetly canst convert the same - From a consuming fire, - Into a gentle-licking flame, - And make it thus expire. - Then make me weep - My pains asleep, - And give me such reposes, - That I, poor I, - May think, thereby, - I live and die - 'Mongst roses. - - Fall on me like a silent dew, - Or like those maiden showers, - Which, by the peep of day, do strew - A baptism o'er the flowers. - Melt, melt my pains - With thy soft strains; - That having ease me given, - With full delight, - I leave this light, - And take my flight - For Heaven. - - - - - -MUSAE GRAVIORES - - - - -230. A THANKSGIVING TO GOD, FOR HIS HOUSE - - Lord, thou hast given me a cell, - Wherein to dwell; - A little house, whose humble roof - Is weather proof; - Under the spars of which I lie - Both soft and dry; - Where thou, my chamber for to ward, - Hast set a guard - Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep - Me, while I sleep. - Low is my porch, as is my fate; - Both void of state; - And yet the threshold of my door - Is worn by th' poor, - Who thither come, and freely get - Good words, or meat. - Like as my parlour, so my hall - And kitchen's small; - A little buttery, and therein - A little bin, - Which keeps my little loaf of bread - Unchipt, unflead; - Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar - Make me a fire, - Close by whose living coal I sit, - And glow like it. - Lord, I confess too, when I dine, - The pulse is thine, - And all those other bits that be - There placed by thee; - The worts, the purslain, and the mess - Of water-cress, - Which of thy kindness thou hast sent; - And my content - Makes those, and my beloved beet, - To be more sweet. - 'Tis thou that crown'st my glittering hearth - With guiltless mirth, - And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink, - Spiced to the brink. - Lord, 'tis thy plenty-dropping hand - That soils my land, - And giv'st me, for my bushel sown, - Twice ten for one; - Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay - Her egg each day; - Besides, my healthful ewes to bear - Me twins each year; - The while the conduits of my kine - Run cream, for wine: - All these, and better, thou dost send - Me, to this end,-- - That I should render, for my part, - A thankful heart; - Which, fired with incense, I resign, - As wholly thine; - --But the acceptance, that must be, - My Christ, by Thee. - - - - -231. MATINS, OR MORNING PRAYER - - When with the virgin morning thou dost rise, - Crossing thyself come thus to sacrifice; - First wash thy heart in innocence; then bring - Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing. - Next to the altar humbly kneel, and thence - Give up thy soul in clouds of frankincense. - Thy golden censers fill'd with odours sweet - Shall make thy actions with their ends to meet. - - - - -232. GOOD PRECEPTS, OR COUNSEL - - In all thy need, be thou possest - Still with a well prepared breast; - Nor let the shackles make thee sad; - Thou canst but have what others had. - And this for comfort thou must know, - Times that are ill won't still be so: - Clouds will not ever pour down rain; - A sullen day will clear again. - First, peals of thunder we must hear; - When lutes and harps shall stroke the ear. - - - - -233. PRAY AND PROSPER - - First offer incense; then, thy field and meads - Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads. - The spangling dew dredged o'er the grass shall be - Turn'd all to mell and manna there for thee. - Butter of amber, cream, and wine, and oil, - Shall run as rivers all throughout thy soil. - Would'st thou to sincere silver turn thy mould? - --Pray once, twice pray; and turn thy ground to gold. - - - - -234. THE BELL-MAN - - Along the dark and silent night, - With my lantern and my light - And the tinkling of my bell, - Thus I walk, and this I tell: - --Death and dreadfulness call on - To the general session; - To whose dismal bar, we there - All accounts must come to clear: - Scores of sins we've made here many; - Wiped out few, God knows, if any. - Rise, ye debtors, then, and fall - To make payment, while I call: - Ponder this, when I am gone: - --By the clock 'tis almost One. - - - - -235. UPON TIME - - Time was upon - The wing, to fly away; - And I call'd on - Him but awhile to stay; - But he'd be gone, - For aught that I could say. - - He held out then - A writing, as he went, - And ask'd me, when - False man would be content - To pay again - What God and Nature lent. - - An hour-glass, - In which were sands but few, - As he did pass, - He shew'd,--and told me too - Mine end near was;-- - And so away he flew. - - - - -236. MEN MIND NO STATE IN SICKNESS - - That flow of gallants which approach - To kiss thy hand from out the coach; - That fleet of lackeys which do run - Before thy swift postilion; - Those strong-hoof'd mules, which we behold - Rein'd in with purple, pearl, and gold, - And shed with silver, prove to be - The drawers of the axle-tree; - Thy wife, thy children, and the state - Of Persian looms and antique plate: - --All these, and more, shall then afford - No joy to thee, their sickly lord. - - - - -237. LIFE IS THE BODY'S LIGHT - - Life is the body's light; which, once declining, - Those crimson clouds i' th' cheeks and lips leave shining:- - Those counter-changed tabbies in the air, - The sun once set, all of one colour are: - So, when death comes, fresh tinctures lose their place, - And dismal darkness then doth smutch the face. - - - - -238. TO THE LADY CREWE, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD - - Why, Madam, will ye longer weep, - Whenas your baby's lull'd asleep? - And, pretty child, feels now no more - Those pains it lately felt before. - - All now is silent; groans are fled; - Your child lies still, yet is not dead, - But rather like a flower hid here, - To spring again another year. - - - - -239. UPON A CHILD THAT DIED - - Here she lies, a pretty bud, - Lately made of flesh and blood; - Who as soon fell fast asleep, - As her little eyes did peep. - --Give her strewings, but not stir - The earth, that lightly covers her. - - - - -240. UPON A CHILD - - Here a pretty baby lies - Sung asleep with lullabies; - Pray be silent, and not stir - Th' easy earth that covers her. - - - - -241. AN EPITAPH UPON A CHILD - - Virgins promised when I died, - That they would each primrose-tide - Duly, morn and evening, come, - And with flowers dress my tomb. - --Having promised, pay your debts - Maids, and here strew violets. - - - - -242. AN EPITAPH UPON A VIRGIN - - Here a solemn fast we keep, - While all beauty lies asleep; - Hush'd be all things, no noise here - But the toning of a tear; - Or a sigh of such as bring - Cowslips for her covering. - - - - -243. UPON A MAID - - Here she lies, in bed of spice, - Fair as Eve in paradise; - For her beauty, it was such, - Poets could not praise too much. - Virgins come, and in a ring - Her supremest REQUIEM sing; - Then depart, but see ye tread - Lightly, lightly o'er the dead. - - - - -244. THE DIRGE OF JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER: - SUNG BY THE VIRGINS - - O thou, the wonder of all days! - O paragon, and pearl of praise! - O Virgin-martyr, ever blest - Above the rest - Of all the maiden-train! We come, - And bring fresh strewings to thy tomb. - - Thus, thus, and thus, we compass round - Thy harmless and unhaunted ground; - And as we sing thy dirge, we will - The daffadil, - And other flowers, lay upon - The altar of our love, thy stone. - - Thou wonder of all maids, liest here, - Of daughters all, the dearest dear; - The eye of virgins; nay, the queen - Of this smooth green, - And all sweet meads, from whence we get - The primrose and the violet. - - Too soon, too dear did Jephthah buy, - By thy sad loss, our liberty; - His was the bond and cov'nant, yet - Thou paid'st the debt; - Lamented Maid! he won the day: - But for the conquest thou didst pay. - - Thy father brought with him along - The olive branch and victor's song; - He slew the Ammonites, we know, - But to thy woe; - And in the purchase of our peace, - The cure was worse than the disease. - - For which obedient zeal of thine, - We offer here, before thy shrine, - Our sighs for storax, tears for wine; - And to make fine - And fresh thy hearse-cloth, we will here - Four times bestrew thee every year. - - Receive, for this thy praise, our tears; - Receive this offering of our hairs; - Receive these crystal vials, fill'd - With tears, distill'd - From teeming eyes; to these we bring, - Each maid, her silver filleting, - - To gild thy tomb; besides, these cauls, - These laces, ribbons, and these falls, - These veils, wherewith we use to hide - The bashful bride, - When we conduct her to her groom; - All, all we lay upon thy tomb. - - No more, no more, since thou art dead, - Shall we e'er bring coy brides to bed; - No more, at yearly festivals, - We, cowslip balls, - Or chains of columbines shall make, - For this or that occasion's sake. - - No, no; our maiden pleasures be - Wrapt in the winding-sheet with thee; - 'Tis we are dead, though not i' th' grave; - Or if we have - One seed of life left, 'tis to keep - A Lent for thee, to fast and weep. - - Sleep in thy peace, thy bed of spice, - And make this place all paradise; - May sweets grow here, and smoke from hence - Fat frankincense; - Let balm and cassia send their scent - From out thy maiden-monument. - - May no wolf howl, or screech owl stir - A wing about thy sepulchre! - No boisterous winds or storms come hither, - To starve or wither - Thy soft sweet earth; but, like a spring, - Love keep it ever flourishing. - - May all shy maids, at wonted hours, - Come forth to strew thy tomb with flowers; - May virgins, when they come to mourn, - Male-incense burn - Upon thine altar; then return, - And leave thee sleeping in thy urn. - - - - -245. THE WIDOWS' TEARS; OR, DIRGE OF DORCAS - - Come pity us, all ye who see - Our harps hung on the willow-tree; - Come pity us, ye passers-by, - Who see or hear poor widows' cry; - Come pity us, and bring your ears - And eyes to pity widows' tears. - CHOR. And when you are come hither, - Then we will keep - A fast, and weep - Our eyes out all together, - - For Tabitha; who dead lies here, - Clean wash'd, and laid out for the bier. - O modest matrons, weep and wail! - For now the corn and wine must fail; - The basket and the bin of bread, - Wherewith so many souls were fed, - CHOR. Stand empty here for ever; - And ah! the poor, - At thy worn door, - Shall be relieved never. - - Woe worth the time, woe worth the day, - That reft us of thee, Tabitha! - For we have lost, with thee, the meal, - The bits, the morsels, and the deal - Of gentle paste and yielding dough, - That thou on widows did bestow. - CHOR. All's gone, and death hath taken - Away from us - Our maundy; thus - Thy widows stand forsaken. - - Ah, Dorcas, Dorcas! now adieu - We bid the cruise and pannier too; - Ay, and the flesh, for and the fish, - Doled to us in that lordly dish. - We take our leaves now of the loom - From whence the housewives' cloth did come; - CHOR. The web affords now nothing; - Thou being dead, - The worsted thread - Is cut, that made us clothing. - - Farewell the flax and reaming wool, - With which thy house was plentiful; - Farewell the coats, the garments, and - The sheets, the rugs, made by thy hand; - Farewell thy fire and thy light, - That ne'er went out by day or night:-- - CHOR. No, or thy zeal so speedy, - That found a way, - By peep of day, - To feed and clothe the needy. - - But ah, alas! the almond-bough - And olive-branch is wither'd now; - The wine-press now is ta'en from us, - The saffron and the calamus; - The spice and spikenard hence is gone, - The storax and the cinnamon; - CHOR. The carol of our gladness - Has taken wing; - And our late spring - Of mirth is turn'd to sadness. - - How wise wast thou in all thy ways! - How worthy of respect and praise! - How matron-like didst thou go drest! - How soberly above the rest - Of those that prank it with their plumes, - And jet it with their choice perfumes! - CHOR. Thy vestures were not flowing; - Nor did the street - Accuse thy feet - Of mincing in their going. - - And though thou here liest dead, we see - A deal of beauty yet in thee. - How sweetly shews thy smiling face, - Thy lips with all diffused grace! - Thy hands, though cold, yet spotless, white, - And comely as the chrysolite. - CHOR. Thy belly like a hill is, - Or as a neat - Clean heap of wheat, - All set about with lilies. - - Sleep with thy beauties here, while we - Will shew these garments made by thee; - These were the coats; in these are read - The monuments of Dorcas dead: - These were thy acts, and thou shalt have - These hung as honours o'er thy grave:-- - CHOR. And after us, distressed, - Should fame be dumb, - Thy very tomb - Would cry out, Thou art blessed. - - - - -246. UPON HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, MISTRESS ELIZABETH HERRICK - - First, for effusions due unto the dead, - My solemn vows have here accomplished; - Next, how I love thee, that my grief must tell, - Wherein thou liv'st for ever.--Dear, farewell! - - - - -247. TO HIS KINSWOMAN, MISTRESS SUSANNA HERRICK - - When I consider, dearest, thou dost stay - But here awhile, to languish and decay; - Like to these garden glories, which here be - The flowery-sweet resemblances of thee: - With grief of heart, methinks, I thus do cry, - Would thou hadst ne'er been born, or might'st not die! - - - - -248. ON HIMSELF - - I'll write no more of love, but now repent - Of all those times that I in it have spent. - I'll write no more of life, but wish 'twas ended, - And that my dust was to the earth commended. - - - - -249. HIS WISH TO PRIVACY - - Give me a cell - To dwell, - Where no foot hath - A path; - There will I spend, - And end, - My wearied years - In tears. - - - - -250. TO HIS PATERNAL COUNTRY - - O earth! earth! earth! hear thou my voice, and be - Loving and gentle for to cover me! - Banish'd from thee I live;--ne'er to return, - Unless thou giv'st my small remains an urn. - - - - -251. COCK-CROW - - Bell-man of night, if I about shall go - For to deny my Master, do thou crow! - Thou stop'st Saint Peter in the midst of sin; - Stay me, by crowing, ere I do begin; - Better it is, premonish'd, for to shun - A sin, than fall to weeping when 'tis done. - - - - -252. TO HIS CONSCIENCE - - Can I not sin, but thou wilt be - My private protonotary? - Can I not woo thee, to pass by - A short and sweet iniquity? - I'll cast a mist and cloud upon - My delicate transgression, - So utter dark, as that no eye - Shall see the hugg'd impiety. - Gifts blind the wise, and bribes do please - And wind all other witnesses; - And wilt not thou with gold be tied, - To lay thy pen and ink aside, - That in the mirk and tongueless night, - Wanton I may, and thou not write? - --It will not be: And therefore, now, - For times to come, I'll make this vow; - From aberrations to live free: - So I'll not fear the judge, or thee. - - - - -253. TO HEAVEN - - Open thy gates - To him who weeping waits, - And might come in, - But that held back by sin. - Let mercy be - So kind, to set me free, - And I will straight - Come in, or force the gate. - - - - -254. AN ODE OF THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR - - In numbers, and but these few, - I sing thy birth, oh JESU! - Thou pretty Baby, born here, - With sup'rabundant scorn here; - Who for thy princely port here, - Hadst for thy place - Of birth, a base - Out-stable for thy court here. - - Instead of neat enclosures - Of interwoven osiers; - Instead of fragrant posies - Of daffadils and roses, - Thy cradle, kingly stranger, - As gospel tells, - Was nothing else, - But, here, a homely manger. - - But we with silks, not cruels, - With sundry precious jewels, - And lily-work will dress thee; - And as we dispossess thee - Of clouts, we'll make a chamber, - Sweet babe, for thee, - Of ivory, - And plaster'd round with amber. - - The Jews, they did disdain thee; - But we will entertain thee - With glories to await here, - Upon thy princely state here, - And more for love than pity: - From year to year - We'll make thee, here, - A free-born of our city. - - - - -255. TO HIS SAVIOUR, A CHILD; - A PRESENT, BY A CHILD - - Go, pretty child, and bear this flower - Unto thy little Saviour; - And tell him, by that bud now blown, - He is the Rose of Sharon known. - When thou hast said so, stick it there - Upon his bib or stomacher; - And tell him, for good handsel too, - That thou hast brought a whistle new, - Made of a clean straight oaten reed, - To charm his cries at time of need; - Tell him, for coral, thou hast none, - But if thou hadst, he should have one; - But poor thou art, and known to be - Even as moneyless as he. - Lastly, if thou canst win a kiss - From those melifluous lips of his;-- - Then never take a second on, - To spoil the first impression. - - - - -256. GRACE FOR A CHILD - - Here, a little child, I stand, - Heaving up my either hand: - Cold as paddocks though they be, - Here I lift them up to thee, - For a benison to fall - On our meat, and on us all. - Amen. - - - - -257. HIS LITANY, TO THE HOLY SPIRIT - - In the hour of my distress, - When temptations me oppress, - And when I my sins confess, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When I lie within my bed, - Sick in heart, and sick in head, - And with doubts discomforted, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the house doth sigh and weep, - And the world is drown'd in sleep, - Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the artless doctor sees - No one hope, but of his fees, - And his skill runs on the lees, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When his potion and his pill, - Has, or none, or little skill, - Meet for nothing but to kill, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the passing-bell doth toll, - And the furies in a shoal - Come to fright a parting soul, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the tapers now burn blue, - And the comforters are few, - And that number more than true, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the priest his last hath pray'd, - And I nod to what is said, - 'Cause my speech is now decay'd, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When, God knows, I'm tost about - Either with despair, or doubt; - Yet, before the glass be out, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the tempter me pursu'th - With the sins of all my youth, - And half damns me with untruth, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the flames and hellish cries - Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes, - And all terrors me surprise, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - When the Judgment is reveal'd, - And that open'd which was seal'd; - When to Thee I have appeal'd, - Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - - - -258. TO DEATH - - Thou bidst me come away, - And I'll no longer stay, - Than for to shed some tears - For faults of former years; - And to repent some crimes - Done in the present times; - And next, to take a bit - Of bread, and wine with it; - To don my robes of love, - Fit for the place above; - To gird my loins about - With charity throughout; - And so to travel hence - With feet of innocence; - These done, I'll only cry, - 'God, mercy!' and so die. - - - - -259. TO HIS SWEET SAVIOUR - - Night hath no wings to him that cannot sleep; - And Time seems then not for to fly, but creep; - Slowly her chariot drives, as if that she - Had broke her wheel, or crack'd her axletree. - Just so it is with me, who list'ning, pray - The winds to blow the tedious night away, - That I might see the cheerful peeping day. - Sick is my heart; O Saviour! do Thou please - To make my bed soft in my sicknesses; - Lighten my candle, so that I beneath - Sleep not for ever in the vaults of death; - Let me thy voice betimes i' th' morning hear; - Call, and I'll come; say Thou the when and where: - Draw me but first, and after Thee I'll run, - And make no one stop till my race be done. - - - - -260. ETERNITY - - O years! and age! farewell: - Behold I go, - Where I do know - Infinity to dwell. - - And these mine eyes shall see - All times, how they - Are lost i' th' sea - Of vast eternity:-- - - Where never moon shall sway - The stars; but she, - And night, shall be - Drown'd in one endless day. - - - - -261. THE WHITE ISLAND: - OR PLACE OF THE BLEST - - In this world, the Isle of Dreams, - While we sit by sorrow's streams, - Tears and terrors are our themes, - Reciting: - - But when once from hence we fly, - More and more approaching nigh - Unto young eternity, - Uniting - - In that whiter Island, where - Things are evermore sincere: - Candour here, and lustre there, - Delighting:-- - - There no monstrous fancies shall - Out of hell an horror call, - To create, or cause at all - Affrighting. - - There, in calm and cooling sleep, - We our eyes shall never steep, - But eternal watch shall keep, - Attending - - Pleasures such as shall pursue - Me immortalized, and you; - And fresh joys, as never too - Have ending. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Selection From The Lyrical Poems Of -Robert Herrick, by Robert Herrick - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LYRICAL POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 1211.txt or 1211.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/1/1211/ - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/1211.zip b/old/1211.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3b309db..0000000 --- a/old/1211.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/old/lporh10.txt b/old/old/lporh10.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8ff842d..0000000 --- a/old/old/lporh10.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6930 +0,0 @@ -*The Project Gutenberg Etext of Lyrical Poems Of Robert Herrick* -Arranged with introduction by Francis Turner Palgrave - - -Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check -the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! - -Please take a look at the important information in this header. -We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an -electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* - -Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and -further information is included below. We need your donations. - - -A Selection From The Lyrical Poems Of Robert Herrick - -Arranged with introduction by Francis Turner Palgrave - -February, 1998 [Etext #1211] - - -*The Project Gutenberg Etext of Lyrical Poems Of Robert Herrick* -******This file should be named 1rbnh10.txt or 1rbnh10.zip****** - -Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, 1rbnh11.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 1rbnh10a.txt - - -Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, -all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a -copyright notice is included. Therefore, we do NOT keep these books -in compliance with any particular paper edition, usually otherwise. - - -We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance -of the official release dates, for time for better editing. - -Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till -midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. -The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at -Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A -preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment -and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an -up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes -in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has -a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a -look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a -new copy has at least one byte more or less. - - -Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) - -We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The -fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take -to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright -searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This -projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value -per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 -million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text -files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1998 for a total of 1500+ -If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the -total should reach over 150 billion Etexts given away. - -The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext -Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] -This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, -which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001 -should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it -will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001. - - -We need your donations more than ever! - - -All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are -tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- -Mellon University). - -For these and other matters, please mail to: - -Project Gutenberg -P. O. Box 2782 -Champaign, IL 61825 - -When all other email fails try our Executive Director: -Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> - -We would prefer to send you this information by email -(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail). - -****** -If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please -FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives: -[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type] - -ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu -login: anonymous -password: your@login -cd etext/etext90 through /etext96 -or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] -dir [to see files] -get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] -GET INDEX?00.GUT -for a list of books -and -GET NEW GUT for general information -and -MGET GUT* for newsletters. - -**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** -(Three Pages) - - -***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** -Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. -They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with -your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from -someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our -fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement -disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how -you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. - -*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT -By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept -this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive -a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by -sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person -you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical -medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. - -ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS -This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- -tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor -Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at -Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other -things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright -on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and -distribute it in the United States without permission and -without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth -below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext -under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. - -To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable -efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain -works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any -medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other -things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged -disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer -codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. - -LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES -But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, -[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this -etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including -legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR -UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, -INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE -OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE -POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. - -If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of -receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) -you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that -time to the person you received it from. If you received it -on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and -such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement -copy. If you received it electronically, such person may -choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to -receive it electronically. - -THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS -TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A -PARTICULAR PURPOSE. - -Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or -the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the -above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you -may have other legal rights. - -INDEMNITY -You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, -officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost -and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or -indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: -[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, -or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. - -DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" -You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by -disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this -"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, -or: - -[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this - requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the - etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, - if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable - binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, - including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- - cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as - *EITHER*: - - [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and - does *not* contain characters other than those - intended by the author of the work, although tilde - (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may - be used to convey punctuation intended by the - author, and additional characters may be used to - indicate hypertext links; OR - - [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at - no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent - form by the program that displays the etext (as is - the case, for instance, with most word processors); - OR - - [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at - no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the - etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC - or other equivalent proprietary form). - -[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this - "Small Print!" statement. - -[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the - net profits you derive calculated using the method you - already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you - don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are - payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon - University" within the 60 days following each - date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) - your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. - -WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? -The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, -scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty -free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution -you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg -Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". - -*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* - - - - - -From The Lyrical Poems Of Robert Herrick - -Arranged with introduction by Francis Turner Palgrave - - - - -PREFACE - - -ROBERT HERRICK - Born 1591 : Died 1674 - - -Those who most admire the Poet from whose many pieces a selection -only is here offered, will, it is probable, feel most strongly -(with the Editor) that excuse is needed for an attempt of an -obviously presumptuous nature. The choice made by any selector -invites challenge: the admission, perhaps, of some poems, the -absence of more, will be censured:--Whilst others may wholly -condemn the process, in virtue of an argument not unfrequently -advanced of late, that a writer's judgment on his own work is to -be considered final. And his book to be taken as he left it, or -left altogether; a literal reproduction of the original text -being occasionally included in this requirement. - -If poetry were composed solely for her faithful band of true -lovers and true students, such a facsimile as that last indicated -would have claims irresistible; but if the first and last object -of this, as of the other Fine Arts, may be defined in language -borrowed from a different range of thought, as 'the greatest -pleasure of the greatest number,' it is certain that less -stringent forms of reproduction are required and justified. The -great majority of readers cannot bring either leisure or taste, -or information sufficient to take them through a large mass (at -any rate) of ancient verse, not even if it be Spenser's or -Milton's. Manners and modes of speech, again, have changed; and -much that was admissible centuries since, or at least sought -admission, has now, by a law against which protest is idle, -lapsed into the indecorous. Even unaccustomed forms of spelling -are an effort to the eye;--a kind of friction, which diminishes -the ease and enjoyment of the reader. - -These hindrances and clogs, of very diverse nature, cannot be -disregarded by Poetry. In common with everything which aims at -human benefit, she must work not only for the 'faithful': she -has also the duty of 'conversion.' Like a messenger from heaven, -it is hers to inspire, to console, to elevate: to convert the -world, in a word, to herself. Every rough place that slackens -her footsteps must be made smooth; nor, in this Art, need there -be fear that the way will ever be vulgarized by too much ease, -nor that she will be loved less by the elect, for being loved -more widely. - -Passing from these general considerations, it is true that a -selection framed in conformity with them, especially if one of -our older poets be concerned, parts with a certain portion of the -pleasure which poetry may confer. A writer is most thoroughly to -be judged by the whole of what he printed. A selector inevitably -holds too despotic a position over his author. The frankness of -speech which we have abandoned is an interesting evidence how the -tone of manners changes. The poet's own spelling and punctuation -bear, or may bear, a gleam of his personality. But such last -drops of pleasure are the reward of fully-formed taste; and -fully-formed taste cannot be reached without full knowledge. -This, we have noticed, most readers cannot bring. Hence, despite -all drawbacks, an anthology may have its place. A book which -tempts many to read a little, will guide some to that more -profound and loving study of which the result is, the full -accomplishment of the poet's mission. - -We have, probably, no poet to whom the reasons here advanced to -justify the invidious task of selection apply more fully and -forcibly than to Herrick. Highly as he is to be rated among our -lyrists, no one who reads through his fourteen hundred pieces can -reasonably doubt that whatever may have been the influences, ---wholly unknown to us,--which determined the contents of his -volume, severe taste was not one of them. PECAT FORTITER:--his -exquisite directness and simplicity of speech repeatedly take -such form that the book cannot be offered to a very large number -of those readers who would most enjoy it. The spelling is at -once arbitrary and obsolete. Lastly, the complete reproduction -of the original text, with explanatory notes, edited by Mr -Grosart, supplies materials equally full and interesting for -those who may, haply, be allured by this little book to master -one of our most attractive poets in his integrity. - -In Herrick's single own edition of HESPERIDES and NOBLE NUMBERS, -but little arrangement is traceable: nor have we more than a few -internal signs of date in composition. It would hence be unwise -to attempt grouping the poems on a strict plan: and the -divisions under which they are here ranged must be regarded -rather as progressive aspects of a landscape than as territorial -demarcations. Pieces bearing on the poet as such are placed -first; then, those vaguely definable as of idyllic character, -'his girls,' epigrams, poems on natural objects, on character and -life; lastly, a few in his religious vein. For the text, -although reference has been made to the original of 1647-8, Mr -Grosart's excellent reprint has been mainly followed. And to -that edition this book is indebted for many valuable exegetical -notes, kindly placed at the Editor's disposal. But for much -fuller elucidation both of words and allusions, and of the -persons mentioned, readers are referred to Mr Grosart's volumes, -which (like the same scholar's 'Sidney' and 'Donne'), for the -first time give Herrick a place among books not printed only, but -edited. - - -Robert Herrick's personal fate is in one point like -Shakespeare's. We know or seem to know them both, through their -works, with singular intimacy. But with this our knowledge -substantially ends. No private letter of Shakespeare, no record -of his conversation, no account of the circumstances in which his -writings were published, remains: hardly any statement how his -greatest contemporaries ranked him. A group of Herrick's -youthful letters on business has, indeed, been preserved; of his -life and studies, of his reputation during his own time, almost -nothing. For whatever facts affectionate diligence could now -gather. Readers are referred to Mr Grosart's 'Introduction.' -But if, to supplement the picture, inevitably imperfect, which -this gives, we turn to Herrick's own book, we learn little, -biographically, except the names of a few friends,--that his -general sympathies were with the Royal cause,--and that he -wearied in Devonshire for London. So far as is known, he -published but this one volume, and that, when not far from his -sixtieth year. Some pieces may be traced in earlier collections; -some few carry ascertainable dates; the rest lie over a period of -near forty years, during a great portion of which we have no -distinct account where Herrick lived, or what were his -employments. We know that he shone with Ben Jonson and the wits -at the nights and suppers of those gods of our glorious early -literature: we may fancy him at Beaumanor, or Houghton, with his -uncle and cousins, keeping a Leicestershire Christmas in the -Manor-house: or, again, in some sweet southern county with Julia -and Anthea, Corinna and Dianeme by his side (familiar then by -other names now never to be remembered), sitting merry, but with -just the sadness of one who hears sweet music, in some meadow -among his favourite flowers of spring-time;--there, or 'where the -rose lingers latest.' .... But 'the dream, the fancy,' is all -that Time has spared us. And if it be curious that his -contemporaries should have left so little record of this -delightful poet and (as we should infer from the book) genial- -hearted man, it is not less so that the single first edition -should have satisfied the seventeenth century, and that, before -the present, notices of Herrick should be of the rarest -occurrence. - -The artist's 'claim to exist' is, however, always far less to be -looked for in his life, than in his art, upon the secret of which -the fullest biography can tell us little--as little, perhaps, as -criticism can analyse its charm. But there are few of our poets -who stand less in need than Herrick of commentaries of this -description,--in which too often we find little more than a dull -or florid prose version of what the author has given us admirably -in verse. Apart from obsolete words or allusions, Herrick is the -best commentator upon Herrick. A few lines only need therefore -here be added, aiming rather to set forth his place in the -sequence of English poets, and especially in regard to those near -his own time, than to point out in detail beauties which he -unveils in his own way, and so most durably and delightfully. - -When our Muses, silent or sick for a century and more after -Chaucer's death, during the years of war and revolution, -reappeared, they brought with them foreign modes of art, ancient -and contemporary, in the forms of which they began to set to -music the new material which the age supplied. At the very -outset, indeed, the moralizing philosophy which has -characterized the English from the beginning of our national -history, appears in the writers of the troubled times lying -between the last regnal years of Henry VIII and the first of his -great daughter. But with the happier hopes of Elizabeth's -accession, poetry was once more distinctly followed, not only as -a means of conveying thought, but as a Fine Art. And hence -something constrained and artificial blends with the freshness of -the Elizabethan literature. For its great underlying elements it -necessarily reverts to those embodied in our own earlier poets, -Chaucer above all, to whom, after barely one hundred and fifty -years, men looked up as a father of song: but in points of style -and treatment, the poets of the sixteenth century lie under a -double external influence--that of the poets of Greece and Rome -(known either in their own tongues or by translation), and that -of the modern literatures which had themselves undergone the same -classical impulse. Italy was the source most regarded during the -more strictly Elizabethan period; whence its lyrical poetry and -the dramatic in a less degree, are coloured much less by pure and -severe classicalism with its closeness to reality, than by the -allegorical and elaborate style, fancy and fact curiously -blended, which had been generated in Italy under the peculiar and -local circumstances of her pilgrimage in literature and art from -the age of Dante onwards. Whilst that influence lasted, such -brilliant pictures of actual life, such directness, movement, and -simplicity in style, as Chaucer often shows, were not yet again -attainable: and although satire, narrative, the poetry of -reflection, were meanwhile not wholly unknown, yet they only -appear in force at the close of this period. And then also the -pressure of political and religious strife, veiled in poetry -during the greater part of Elizabeth's actual reign under the -forms of pastoral and allegory, again imperiously breaks in upon -the gracious but somewhat slender and artificial fashions of -England's Helicon: the DIVOM NUMEN, SEDESQUE QUIETAE which, in -some degree the Elizabethan poets offer, disappear; until filling -the central years of the seventeenth century we reach an age as -barren for inspiration of new song as the Wars of the Roses; -although the great survivors from earlier years mask this -sterility;--masking also the revolution in poetical manner and -matter which we can see secretly preparing in the later -'Cavalier' poets, but which was not clearly recognised before the -time of Dryden's culmination. - -In the period here briefly sketched, what is Herrick's portion? -His verse is eminent for sweet and gracious fluency; this is a -real note of the 'Elizabethan' poets. His subjects are -frequently pastoral, with a classical tinge, more or less slight, -infused; his language, though not free from exaggeration, is -generally free from intellectual conceits and distortion, and is -eminent throughout for a youthful NAIVETE. Such, also, are -qualities of the latter sixteenth century literature. But if -these characteristics might lead us to call Herrick 'the last of -the Elizabethans,' born out of due time, the differences between -him and them are not less marked. Herrick's directness of speech -is accompanied by an equally clear and simple presentment of his -thought; we have, perhaps, no poet who writes more consistently -and earnestly with his eye upon his subject. An allegorical or -mystical treatment is alien from him: he handles awkwardly the -few traditional fables which he introduces. He is also wholly -free from Italianizing tendencies: his classicalism even is that -of an English student,--of a schoolboy, indeed, if he be compared -with a Jonson or a Milton. Herrick's personal eulogies on his -friends and others, further, witness to the extension of the -field of poetry after Elizabeth's age;--in which his enthusiastic -geniality, his quick and easy transitions of subject, have also -little precedent. - -If, again, we compare Herrick's book with those of his fellow- -poets for a hundred years before, very few are the traces which -he gives of imitation, or even of study. During the long -interval between Herrick's entrance on his Cambridge and his -clerical careers (an interval all but wholly obscure to us), it -is natural to suppose that he read, at any rate, his Elizabethan -predecessors: yet (beyond those general similarities already -noticed) the Editor can find no positive proof of familiarity. -Compare Herrick with Marlowe, Greene, Breton, Drayton, or other -pretty pastoralists of the HELICON--his general and radical -unlikeness is what strikes us; whilst he is even more remote from -the passionate intensity of Sidney and Shakespeare, the Italian -graces of Spenser, the pensive beauty of PARTHENOPHIL, of DIELLA, -of FIDESSA, of the HECATOMPATHIA and the TEARS OF FANCY. - -Nor is Herrick's resemblance nearer to many of the contemporaries -who have been often grouped with him. He has little in common -with the courtly elegance, the learned polish, which too rarely -redeem commonplace and conceits in Carew, Habington, Lovelace, -Cowley, or Waller. Herrick has his CONCETTI also: but they are -in him generally true plays of fancy; he writes throughout far -more naturally than these lyrists, who, on the other hand, in -their unfrequent successes reach a more complete and classical -form of expression. Thus, when Carew speaks of an aged fair one - - When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her, - Love may return, but lovers never! - -Cowley, of his mistress-- - - Love in her sunny eyes does basking play, - Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair: - -or take Lovelace, 'To Lucasta,' Waller, in his 'Go, lovely -rose,'--we have a finish and condensation which Herrick hardly -attains; a literary quality alien from his 'woodnotes wild,' -which may help us to understand the very small appreciation he -met from his age. He had 'a pretty pastoral gale of fancy,' said -Phillips, cursorily dismissing Herrick in his THEATRUM: not -suspecting how inevitably artifice and mannerism, if fashionable -for awhile, pass into forgetfulness, whilst the simple cry of -Nature partake in her permanence. - -Donne and Marvell, stronger men, leave also no mark on our poet. -The elaborate thought, the metrical harshness of the first, could -find no counterpart in Herrick; whilst Marvell, beyond him in -imaginative power, though twisting it too often into contortion -and excess, appears to have been little known as a lyrist then:-- -as, indeed, his great merits have never reached anything like -due popular recognition. Yet Marvell's natural description is -nearer Herrick's in felicity and insight than any of the poets -named above. Nor, again, do we trace anything of Herbert or -Vaughan in Herrick's NOBLE NUMBERS, which, though unfairly judged -if held insincere, are obviously far distant from the intense -conviction, the depth and inner fervour of his high-toned -contemporaries. - -It is among the great dramatists of this age that we find the -only English influences palpably operative on this singularly -original writer. The greatest, in truth, is wholly absent: and -it is remarkable that although Herrick may have joined in the -wit-contests and genialities of the literary clubs in London soon -after Shakespeare's death, and certainly lived in friendship with -some who had known him, yet his name is never mentioned in the -poetical commemorations of the HESPERIDES. In Herrick, echoes -from Fletcher's idyllic pieces in the FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS are -faintly traceable; from his songs, 'Hear what Love can do,' and -'The lusty Spring,' more distinctly. But to Ben Jonson, whom -Herrick addresses as his patron saint in song, and ranks on the -highest list of his friends, his obligations are much more -perceptible. In fact, Jonson's non-dramatic poetry,--the EPIGRAMS -and FOREST of 1616, the UNDERWOODS of 1641, (he died in 1637),-- -supply models, generally admirable in point of art, though of -very unequal merit in their execution and contents, of the -principal forms under which we may range Herrick's HESPERIDES. -The graceful love-song, the celebration of feasts and wit, the -encomia of friends, the epigram as then understood, are all here -represented: even Herrick's vein in natural description is -prefigured in the odes to Penshurst and Sir Robert Wroth, of -1616. And it is in the religious pieces of the NOBLE NUMBERS, -for which Jonson afforded the least copious precedents, that, as -a rule, Herrick is least successful. - -Even if we had not the verses on his own book, (the most -noteworthy of which are here printed as PREFATORY,) in proof that -Herrick was no careless singer, but a true artist, working with -conscious knowledge of his art, we might have inferred the fact -from the choice of Jonson as his model. That great poet, as -Clarendon justly remarked, had 'judgment to order and govern -fancy, rather than excess of fancy: his productions being slow -and upon deliberation.' No writer could be better fitted for the -guidance of one so fancy-free as Herrick; to whom the curb, in -the old phrase, was more needful than the spur, and whose -invention, more fertile and varied than Jonson's, was ready at -once to fill up the moulds of form provided. He does this with a -lively facility, contrasting much with the evidence of labour in -his master's work. Slowness and deliberation are the last -qualities suggested by Herrick. Yet it may be doubted whether -the volatile ease, the effortless grace, the wild bird-like -fluency with which he - - Scatters his loose notes in the waste of air - -are not, in truth, the results of exquisite art working in co- -operation with the gifts of nature. The various readings which -our few remaining manuscripts or printed versions have supplied -to Mr Grosart's 'Introduction,' attest the minute and curious -care with which Herrick polished and strengthened his own work: -his airy facility, his seemingly spontaneous melodies, as with -Shelley--his counterpart in pure lyrical art within this century ---were earned by conscious labour; perfect freedom was begotten -of perfect art;--nor, indeed, have excellence and permanence any -other parent. - -With the error that regards Herrick as a careless singer is -closely twined that which ranks him in the school of that master -of elegant pettiness who has usurped and abused the name -Anacreon; as a mere light-hearted writer of pastorals, a gay and -frivolous Renaissance amourist. He has indeed those elements: -but with them is joined the seriousness of an age which knew that -the light mask of classicalism and bucolic allegory could be worn -only as an ornament, and that life held much deeper and further- -reaching issues than were visible to the narrow horizons within -which Horace or Martial circumscribed the range of their art. -Between the most intensely poetical, and so, greatest, among the -French poets of this century, and Herrick, are many points of -likeness. He too, with Alfred de Musset, might have said - - Quoi que nous puissions faire, - Je souffre; il est trop tard; le monde s'est fait vieux. - Une immense esperance a traverse la terre; - Malgre nous vers le ciel il faut lever les yeux. - -Indeed, Herrick's deepest debt to ancient literature lies not in -the models which he directly imitated, nor in the Anacreontic -tone which with singular felicity he has often taken. These are -common to many writers with him:--nor will he who cannot learn -more from the great ancient world ever rank among poets of high -order, or enter the innermost sanctuary of art. But, the power -to describe men and things as the poet sees them with simple -sincerity, insight, and grace: to paint scenes and imaginations -as perfect organic wholes;--carrying with it the gift to clothe -each picture, as if by unerring instinct, in fit metrical form, -giving to each its own music; beginning without affectation, and -rounding off without effort;-- the power, in a word, to leave -simplicity, sanity, and beauty as the last impressions lingering -on our minds, these gifts are at once the true bequest of -classicalism, and the reason why (until modern effort equals -them) the study of that Hellenic and Latin poetry in which these -gifts are eminent above all other literatures yet created, must -be essential. And it is success in precisely these excellences -which is here claimed for Herrick. He is classical in the great -and eternal sense of the phrase: and much more so, probably, -than he was himself aware of. No poet in fact is so far from -dwelling in a past or foreign world: it is the England, if not -of 1648, at least of his youth, in which he lives and moves and -loves: his Bucolics show no trace of Sicily: his Anthea and -Julia wear no 'buckles of the purest gold,' nor have anything -about them foreign to Middlesex or Devon. Herrick's imagination -has no far horizons: like Burns and Crabbe fifty years since, or -Barnes (that exquisite and neglected pastoralist of fair Dorset, -perfect within his narrower range as Herrick) to-day, it is his -own native land only which he sees and paints: even the fairy -world in which, at whatever inevitable interval, he is second to -Shakespeare, is pure English; or rather, his elves live in an -elfin county of their own, and are all but severed from humanity. -Within that greater circle of Shakespeare, where Oberon and Ariel -and their fellows move, aiding or injuring mankind, and -reflecting human life in a kind of unconscious parody, Herrick -cannot walk: and it may have been due to his good sense and true -feeling for art, that here, where resemblance might have seemed -probable, he borrows nothing from MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM or -TEMPEST. if we are moved by the wider range of Byron's or -Shelley's sympathies, there is a charm, also, in this sweet -insularity of Herrick; a narrowness perhaps, yet carrying with it -a healthful reality absent from the vapid and artificial -'cosmopolitanism' that did such wrong on Goethe's genius. If he -has not the exotic blooms and strange odours which poets who -derive from literature show in their conservatories, Herrick has -the fresh breeze and thyme-bed fragrance of open moorland, the -grace and greenery of English meadows: with Homer and Dante, he -too shares the strength and inspiration which come from touch of -a man's native soil. - -What has been here sketched is not planned so much as a criticism -in form on Herrick's poetry as an attempt to seize his relations -to his predecessors and contemporaries. If we now tentatively -inquire what place may be assigned to him in our literature at -large, Herrick has no single lyric to show equal, in pomp of -music, brilliancy of diction, or elevation of sentiment to some -which Spenser before, Milton in his own time, Dryden and Gray, -Wordsworth and Shelley, since have given us. Nor has he, as -already noticed, the peculiar finish and reserve (if the phrase -may be allowed) traceable, though rarely, in Ben Jonson and -others of the seventeenth century. He does not want passion; yet -his passion wants concentration: it is too ready, also, to dwell -on externals: imagination with him generally appears clothed in -forms of fancy. Among his contemporaries, take Crashaw's -'Wishes': Sir J. Beaumont's elegy on his child Gervase: take -Bishop King's 'Surrender': - - My once-dear Love!--hapless, that I no more - Must call thee so. . . . The rich affection's store - That fed our hopes, lies now exhaust and spent, - Like sums of treasure unto bankrupts lent:-- - We that did nothing study but the way - To love each other, with which thoughts the day - Rose with delight to us, and with them set, - Must learn the hateful art, how to forget! - --Fold back our arms, take home our fruitless loves, - That must new fortunes try, like turtle doves - Dislodged from their haunts. We must in tears - Unwind a love knit up in many years. - In this one kiss I here surrender thee - Back to thyself: so thou again art free:- - -take eight lines by some old unknown Northern singer: - - When I think on the happy days - I spent wi' you, my dearie, - And now what lands between us lie, - How can I be but eerie! - - How slow ye move, ye heavy hours, - As ye were wae and weary! - It was na sae ye glinted by - When I was wi' my dearie:-- - ---O! there is an intensity here, a note of passion beyond the -deepest of Herrick's. This tone (whether from temperament or -circumstance or scheme of art), is wanting to the HESPERIDES and -NOBLE NUMBERS: nor does Herrick's lyre, sweet and varied as it -is, own that purple chord, that more inwoven harmony, possessed -by poets of greater depth and splendour,--by Shakespeare and -Milton often, by Spenser more rarely. But if we put aside these -'greater gods' of song, with Sidney,--in the Editor's judgment -Herrick's mastery (to use a brief expression), both over Nature -and over Art, clearly assigns to him the first place as lyrical -poet, in the strict and pure sense of the phrase, among all who -flourished during the interval between Henry V and a hundred -years since. Single pieces of equal, a few of higher, quality, -we have, indeed, meanwhile received, not only from the master- -singers who did not confine themselves to the Lyric, but from -many poets--some the unknown contributors to our early -anthologies, then Jonson, Marvell, Waller, Collins, and others, -with whom we reach the beginning of the wider sweep which lyrical -poetry has since taken. Yet, looking at the whole work, not at -the selected jewels, of this great and noble multitude, Herrick, -as lyrical poet strictly, offers us by far the most homogeneous, -attractive, and varied treasury. No one else among lyrists -within the period defined, has such unfailing freshness: so much -variety within the sphere prescribed to himself: such closeness -to nature, whether in description or in feeling: such easy -fitness in language: melody so unforced and delightful. His -dull pages are much less frequent: he has more lines, in his own -phrase, 'born of the royal blood': the - - Inflata rore non Achaico verba - -are rarer with him: although superficially mannered, nature is -so much nearer to him, that far fewer of his pieces have lost -vitality and interest through adherence to forms of feeling or -fashions of thought now obsolete. A Roman contemporary is -described by the younger Pliny in words very appropriate to -Herrick: who, in fact, if Greek in respect of his method and -style, in the contents of his poetry displays the 'frankness of -nature and vivid sense of life' which criticism assigns as marks -of the great Roman poets. FACIT VERSUS, QUALES CATULLUS AUT -CALVUS. QUANTUM ILLIS LEPORIS, DULCEDINIS, AMARITUDINIS AMORIS! -INSERIT SANE, SED DATA OPERA, MOLLIBUS LENIBUSQUE DURIUSCULOS -QUOSDAM; ET HOC, QUASI CATULLUS AUT CALVUS. Many pieces have -been, here refused admittance, whether from coarseness of phrase -or inferior value: yet these are rarely defective in the lyrical -art, which, throughout the writer's work, is so simple and easy -as almost to escape notice through its very excellence. In one -word, Herrick, in a rare and special sense, is unique. - -To these qualities we may, perhaps, ascribe the singular neglect -which, so far as we may infer, he met with in his own age, and -certainly in the century following. For the men of the -Restoration period he was too natural, too purely poetical: he -had not the learned polish, the political allusion, the tone of -the city, the didactic turn, which were then and onwards demanded -from poetry. In the next age, no tradition consecrated his name; -whilst writers of a hundred years before were then too remote for -familiarity, and not remote enough for reverence. Moving on to -our own time, when some justice has at length been conceded to -him, Herrick has to meet the great rivalry of the poets who, from -Burns and Cowper to Tennyson, have widened and deepened the -lyrical sphere, making it at once on the one hand more intensely -personal, on the other, more free and picturesque in the range of -problems dealt with: whilst at the same time new and richer -lyrical forms, harmonies more intricate and seven-fold, have been -created by them, as in Hellas during her golden age of song, to -embody ideas and emotions unknown or unexpressed under Tudors and -Stuarts. To this latter superiority Herrick would, doubtless, -have bowed, as he bowed before Ben Jonson's genius. 'Rural -ditties,' and 'oaten flute' cannot bear the competition of the -full modern orchestra. Yet this author need not fear! That -exquisite: and lofty pleasure which it is the first and the last -aim of all true art to give, must, by its own nature, be lasting -also. As the eyesight fluctuates, and gives the advantage to -different colours in turn, so to the varying moods of the mind -the same beauty does not always seem equally beautiful. Thus -from the 'purple light' of our later poetry there are hours in -which we may look to the daffodil and rose-tints of Herrick's old -Arcadia, for refreshment and delight. And the pleasure which he -gives is as eminently wholesome as pleasurable. Like the holy -river of Virgil, to the souls who drink of him, Herrick offers -'securos latices.' He is conspicuously free from many of the -maladies incident to his art. Here is no overstrain, no -spasmodic cry, so wire-drawn analysis or sensational rhetoric, no -music without sense, no mere second-hand literary inspiration, no -mannered archaism:--above all, no sickly sweetness, no subtle, -unhealthy affectation. Throughout his work, whether when it is -strong, or in the less worthy portions, sanity, sincerity, -simplicity, lucidity, are everywhere the characteristics of -Herrick: in these, not in his pretty Pagan masquerade, he shows -the note,--the only genuine note,--of Hellenic descent. Hence, -through whatever changes and fashions poetry may pass, her true -lovers he is likely to 'please now, and please for long.' His -verse, in the words of a poet greater than himself, is of that -quality which 'adds sunlight to daylight'; which is able to 'make -the happy happier.' He will, it may be hoped, carry to the many -Englands across the seas, east and west, pictures of English life -exquisite in truth and grace:--to the more fortunate inhabitants -(as they must perforce hold themselves!) of the old country, her -image, as she was two centuries since, will live in the 'golden -apples' of the West, offered to us by this sweet singer of -Devonshire. We have greater poets, not a few; none more faithful -to nature as he saw her, none more perfect in his art;--none, -more companionable:-- - -F. T. P. -Dec. 1876 - - - -** C H R Y S O M E L A ** - -A SELECTION FROM THE LYRICAL POEMS OF ROBERT HERRICK - - -** PREFATORY ** - - -*1* - -THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK - -I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, -Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers; -I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, -Of bride-grooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. -I write of Youth, of Love;--and have access -By these, to sing of cleanly wantonness; -I sing of dews, of rains, and, piece by piece, -Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris. -I sing of times trans-shifting; and I write -How roses first came red, and lilies white. -I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing -The court of Mab, and of the Fairy King. -I write of Hell; I sing, and ever shall -Of Heaven,--and hope to have it after all. - - -*2* - -TO HIS MUSE - -Whither, mad maiden, wilt thou roam? -Far safer 'twere to stay at home; -Where thou mayst sit, and piping, please -The poor and private cottages. -Since cotes and hamlets best agree -With this thy meaner minstrelsy. -There with the reed thou mayst express -The shepherd's fleecy happiness; -And with thy Eclogues intermix: -Some smooth and harmless Bucolics. -There, on a hillock, thou mayst sing -Unto a handsome shepherdling; -Or to a girl, that keeps the neat, -With breath more sweet than violet. -There, there, perhaps such lines as these -May take the simple villages; -But for the court, the country wit -Is despicable unto it. -Stay then at home, and do not go -Or fly abroad to seek for woe; -Contempts in courts and cities dwell -No critic haunts the poor man's cell, -Where thou mayst hear thine own lines read -By no one tongue there censured. -That man's unwise will search for ill, -And may prevent it, sitting still. - - -*3* - -WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ - -In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse -The holy incantation of a verse; -But when that men have both well drunk, and fed, -Let my enchantments then be sung or read. -When laurel spirts i' th' fire, and when the hearth -Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth; -When up the Thyrse is raised, and when the sound -Of sacred orgies, flies A round, A round; -When the rose reigns, and locks with ointments shine, -Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine. - - -*4* - -TO HIS BOOK - -Make haste away, and let one be -A friendly patron unto thee; -Lest, rapt from hence, I see thee lie -Torn for the use of pastery; -Or see thy injured leaves serve well -To make loose gowns for mackarel; -Or see the grocers, in a trice, -Make hoods of thee to serve out spice. - - -*5* - -TO HIS BOOK - -Take mine advice, and go not near -Those faces, sour as vinegar; -For these, and nobler numbers, can -Ne'er please the supercilious man. - - -*6* - -TO HIS BOOK - -Be bold, my Book, nor be abash'd, or fear -The cutting thumb-nail, or the brow severe; -But by the Muses swear, all here is good, -If but well read, or ill read, understood. - - -*7* - -TO MISTRESS KATHARINE BRADSHAW, THE LOVELY, -THAT CROWNED HIM WITH LAUREL - -My Muse in meads has spent her many hours -Sitting, and sorting several sorts of flowers, -To make for others garlands; and to set -On many a head here, many a coronet. -But amongst all encircled here, not one -Gave her a day of coronation; -Till you, sweet mistress, came and interwove -A laurel for her, ever young as Love. -You first of all crown'd her; she must, of due, -Render for that, a crown of life to you. - - -*8* - -TO HIS VERSES - -What will ye, my poor orphans, do, -When I must leave the world and you; -Who'll give ye then a sheltering shed, -Or credit ye, when I am dead? -Who'll let ye by their fire sit, -Although ye have a stock of wit, -Already coin'd to pay for it? ---I cannot tell: unless there be -Some race of old humanity -Left, of the large heart and long hand, -Alive, as noble Westmorland; -Or gallant Newark; which brave two -May fost'ring fathers be to you. -If not, expect to be no less -Ill used, than babes left fatherless. - - -*9* - -NOT EVERY DAY FIT FOR VERSE - -'Tis not ev'ry day that I -Fitted am to prophesy: -No, but when the spirit fills -The fantastic pannicles, -Full of fire, then I write -As the Godhead doth indite. -Thus enraged, my lines are hurl'd, -Like the Sibyl's, through the world: -Look how next the holy fire -Either slakes, or doth retire; -So the fancy cools:--till when -That brave spirit comes again. - - -*10* - -HIS PRAYER TO BEN JONSON - -When I a verse shall make, -Know I have pray'd thee, -For old religion's sake, -Saint Ben, to aid me - -Make the way smooth for me, -When, I, thy Herrick, -Honouring thee on my knee -Offer my Lyric. - -Candles I'll give to thee, -And a new altar; -And thou, Saint Ben, shalt be -Writ in my psalter. - - -*11* - -HIS REQUEST TO JULIA - -Julia, if I chance to die -Ere I print my poetry, -I most humbly thee desire -To commit it to the fire: -Better 'twere my book were dead, -Than to live not perfected. - - -*12* - -TO HIS BOOK - -Go thou forth, my book, though late, -Yet be timely fortunate. -It may chance good luck may send -Thee a kinsman or a friend, -That may harbour thee, when I -With my fates neglected lie. -If thou know'st not where to dwell, -See, the fire's by.--Farewell! - - -*13* - -HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR - -Only a little more -I have to write: -Then I'll give o'er, -And bid the world good-night. - -'Tis but a flying minute, -That I must stay, -Or linger in it: -And then I must away. - -O Time, that cut'st down all, -And scarce leav'st here -Memorial -Of any men that were; - ---How many lie forgot -In vaults beneath, -And piece-meal rot -Without a fame in death? - -Behold this living stone -I rear for me, -Ne'er to be thrown -Down, envious Time, by thee. - -Pillars let some set up -If so they please; -Here is my hope, -And my Pyramides. - - -*14* - -TO HIS BOOK - -If hap it must, that I must see thee lie -Absyrtus-like, all torn confusedly; -With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart, -I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part; -And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chest -With spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest. - - -*15* - -UPON HIMSELF - -Thou shalt not all die; for while Love's fire shines -Upon his altar, men shall read thy lines; -And learn'd musicians shall, to honour Herrick's -Fame, and his name, both set and sing his lyrics. - -To his book's end this last line he'd have placed:-- -Jocund his Muse was, but his Life was chaste. - - -** IDYLLICA ** - - -*16* - -THE COUNTRY LIFE: - -TO THE HONOURED MR ENDYMION PORTER, GROOM OF -THE BED-CHAMBER TO HIS MAJESTY - -Sweet country life, to such unknown, -Whose lives are others', not their own! -But serving courts and cities, be -Less happy, less enjoying thee. -Thou never plough'st the ocean's foam -To seek and bring rough pepper home: -Nor to the Eastern Ind dost rove -To bring from thence the scorched clove: -Nor, with the loss of thy loved rest, -Bring'st home the ingot from the West. -No, thy ambition's master-piece -Flies no thought higher than a fleece: -Or how to pay thy hinds, and clear -All scores: and so to end the year: -But walk'st about thine own dear bounds, -Not envying others' larger grounds: -For well thou know'st, 'tis not th' extent -Of land makes life, but sweet content. -When now the cock (the ploughman's horn) -Calls forth the lily-wristed morn; -Then to thy corn-fields thou dost go, -Which though well soil'd, yet thou dost know -That the best compost for the lands -Is the wise master's feet, and hands. -There at the plough thou find'st thy team, -With a hind whistling there to them: -And cheer'st them up, by singing how -The kingdom's portion is the plough. -This done, then to th' enamell'd meads -Thou go'st; and as thy foot there treads, -Thou seest a present God-like power -Imprinted in each herb and flower: -And smell'st the breath of great-eyed kine, -Sweet as the blossoms of the vine. -Here thou behold'st thy large sleek neat -Unto the dew-laps up in meat: -And, as thou look'st, the wanton steer, -The heifer, cow, and ox draw near, -To make a pleasing pastime there. -These seen, thou go'st to view thy flocks -Of sheep, safe from the wolf and fox, -And find'st their bellies there as full -Of short sweet grass, as backs with wool: -And leav'st them, as they feed and fill, -A shepherd piping on a hill. - -For sports, for pageantry, and plays, -Thou hast thy eves, and holydays: -On which the young men and maids meet, -To exercise their dancing feet: -Tripping the comely country Round, -With daffadils and daisies crown'd. -Thy wakes, thy quintels, here thou hast, -Thy May-poles too with garlands graced; -Thy Morris-dance; thy Whitsun-ale; -Thy shearing-feast, which never fail. -Thy harvest home; thy wassail bowl, -That's toss'd up after Fox i' th' hole: -Thy mummeries; thy Twelve-tide kings -And queens; thy Christmas revellings: -Thy nut-brown mirth, thy russet wit, -And no man pays too dear for it.-- -To these, thou hast thy times to go -And trace the hare i' th' treacherous snow: -Thy witty wiles to draw, and get -The lark into the trammel net: -Thou hast thy cockrood, and thy glade -To take the precious pheasant made: -Thy lime-twigs, snares, and pit-falls then -To catch the pilfering birds, not men. - ---O happy life! if that their good -The husbandmen but understood! -Who all the day themselves do please, -And younglings, with such sports as these: -And lying down, have nought t' affright -Sweet Sleep, that makes more short the night. -CAETERA DESUNT-- - - -*17* - -TO PHILLIS, TO LOVE AND LIVE WITH HIM - -Live, live with me, and thou shalt see -The pleasures I'll prepare for thee: -What sweets the country can afford -Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board. -The soft sweet moss shall be thy bed, -With crawling woodbine over-spread: -By which the silver-shedding streams -Shall gently melt thee into dreams. -Thy clothing next, shall be a gown -Made of the fleeces' purest down. -The tongues of kids shall be thy meat; -Their milk thy drink; and thou shalt eat -The paste of filberts for thy bread -With cream of cowslips buttered: -Thy feasting-table shall be hills -With daisies spread, and daffadils; -Where thou shalt sit, and Red-breast by, -For meat, shall give thee melody. -I'll give thee chains and carcanets -Of primroses and violets. -A bag and bottle thou shalt have, -That richly wrought, and this as brave; -So that as either shall express -The wearer's no mean shepherdess. -At shearing-times, and yearly wakes, -When Themilis his pastime makes, -There thou shalt be; and be the wit, -Nay more, the feast, and grace of it. -On holydays, when virgins meet -To dance the heys with nimble feet, -Thou shalt come forth, and then appear -The Queen of Roses for that year. -And having danced ('bove all the best) -Carry the garland from the rest, -In wicker-baskets maids shall bring -To thee, my dearest shepherdling, -The blushing apple, bashful pear, -And shame-faced plum, all simp'ring there. -Walk in the groves, and thou shalt find -The name of Phillis in the rind -Of every straight and smooth-skin tree; -Where kissing that, I'll twice kiss thee. -To thee a sheep-hook I will send, -Be-prank'd with ribbands, to this end, -This, this alluring hook might be -Less for to catch a sheep, than me. -Thou shalt have possets, wassails fine, -Not made of ale, but spiced wine; -To make thy maids and self free mirth, -All sitting near the glitt'ring hearth. -Thou shalt have ribbands, roses, rings, -Gloves, garters, stockings, shoes, and strings -Of winning colours, that shall move -Others to lust, but me to love. ---These, nay, and more, thine own shall be, -If thou wilt love, and live with me. - - -*18* - -THE WASSAIL - -Give way, give way, ye gates, and win -An easy blessing to your bin -And basket, by our entering in. - -May both with manchet stand replete; -Your larders, too, so hung with meat, -That though a thousand, thousand eat, - -Yet, ere twelve moons shall whirl about -Their silv'ry spheres, there's none may doubt -But more's sent in than was served out. - -Next, may your dairies prosper so, -As that your pans no ebb may know; -But if they do, the more to flow, - -Like to a solemn sober stream, -Bank'd all with lilies, and the cream -Of sweetest cowslips filling them. - -Then may your plants be press'd with fruit, -Nor bee or hive you have be mute, -But sweetly sounding like a lute. - -Last, may your harrows, shares, and ploughs, -Your stacks, your stocks, your sweetest mows, -All prosper by your virgin-vows. - ---Alas! we bless, but see none here, -That brings us either ale or beer; -In a dry-house all things are near. - -Let's leave a longer time to wait, -Where rust and cobwebs bind the gate; -And all live here with needy fate; - -Where chimneys do for ever weep -For want of warmth, and stomachs keep -With noise the servants' eyes from sleep. - -It is in vain to sing, or stay -Our free feet here, but we'll away: -Yet to the Lares this we'll say: - -'The time will come when you'll be sad, -'And reckon this for fortune bad, -'T'ave lost the good ye might have had.' - - -*19* - -THE FAIRIES - -If ye will with Mab find grace, -Set each platter in his place; -Rake the fire up, and get -Water in, ere sun be set. -Wash your pails and cleanse your dairies, -Sluts are loathsome to the fairies; -Sweep your house; Who doth not so, -Mab will pinch her by the toe. - - -*20* - -CEREMONY UPON CANDLEMAS EVE - -Down with the rosemary, and so -Down with the bays and misletoe; -Down with the holly, ivy, all -Wherewith ye dress'd the Christmas hall; -That so the superstitious find -No one least branch there left behind; -For look, how many leaves there be -Neglected there, maids, trust to me, -So many goblins you shall see. - - -*21* - -CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE - -Down with the rosemary and bays, -Down with the misletoe; -Instead of holly, now up-raise -The greener box, for show. - -The holly hitherto did sway; -Let box now domineer, -Until the dancing Easter-day, -Or Easter's eve appear. - -Then youthful box, which now hath grace -Your houses to renew, -Grown old, surrender must his place -Unto the crisped yew. - -When yew is out, then birch comes in, -And many flowers beside, -Both of a fresh and fragrant kin, -To honour Whitsuntide. - -Green rushes then, and sweetest bents, -With cooler oaken boughs, -Come in for comely ornaments, -To re-adorn the house. -Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold; -New things succeed, as former things grow old. - - -*22* - -THE CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS DAY - -Kindle the Christmas brand, and then -Till sunset let it burn; -Which quench'd, then lay it up again, -Till Christmas next return. - -Part must be kept, wherewith to teend -The Christmas log next year; -And where 'tis safely kept, the fiend -Can do no mischief there. - - -*23* - -FAREWELL FROST, OR WELCOME SPRING - -Fled are the frosts, and now the fields appear -Reclothed in fresh and verdant diaper; -Thaw'd are the snows; and now the lusty Spring -Gives to each mead a neat enamelling; -The palms put forth their gems, and every tree -Now swaggers in her leafy gallantry. -The while the Daulian minstrel sweetly sings -With warbling notes her Terean sufferings. ---What gentle winds perspire! as if here -Never had been the northern plunderer -To strip the trees and fields, to their distress, -Leaving them to a pitied nakedness. -And look how when a frantic storm doth tear -A stubborn oak or holm, long growing there,-- -But lull'd to calmness, then succeeds a breeze -That scarcely stirs the nodding leaves of trees; -So when this war, which tempest-like doth spoil -Our salt, our corn, our honey, wine, and oil, -Falls to a temper, and doth mildly cast -His inconsiderate frenzy off, at last, -The gentle dove may, when these turmoils cease, -Bring in her bill, once more, the branch of Peace. - - -*24* - -TO THE MAIDS, TO WALK ABROAD - -Come, sit we under yonder tree, -Where merry as the maids we'll be; -And as on primroses we sit, -We'll venture, if we can, at wit; -If not, at draw-gloves we will play, -So spend some minutes of the day; -Or else spin out the thread of sands, -Playing at questions and commands: -Or tell what strange tricks Love can do, -By quickly making one of two. -Thus we will sit and talk, but tell -No cruel truths of Philomel, -Or Phillis, whom hard fate forced on -To kill herself for Demophon; -But fables we'll relate; how Jove -Put on all shapes to get a Love; -As now a satyr, then a swan, -A bull but then, and now a man. -Next, we will act how young men woo, -And sigh and kiss as lovers do; -And talk of brides; and who shall make -That wedding-smock, this bridal-cake, -That dress, this sprig, that leaf, this vine, -That smooth and silken columbine. -This done, we'll draw lots who shall buy -And gild the bays and rosemary; -What posies for our wedding rings; -What gloves we'll give, and ribbonings; -And smiling at our selves, decree -Who then the joining priest shall be; -What short sweet prayers shall be said, -And how the posset shall be made -With cream of lilies, not of kine, -And maiden's-blush for spiced wine. -Thus having talk'd, we'll next commend -A kiss to each, and so we'll end. - - -*25* - -CORINA'S GOING A MAYING - -Get up, get up for shame! the blooming morn -Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. -See how Aurora throws her fair -Fresh-quilted colours through the air: -Get up, sweet-slug-a-bed, and see -The dew bespangling herb and tree. -Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east, -Above an hour since; yet you not drest, -Nay! not so much as out of bed? -When all the birds have matins said, -And sung their thankful hymns: 'tis sin, -Nay, profanation, to keep in,-- -Whenas a thousand virgins on this day, -Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May. - -Rise; and put on your foliage, and be seen -To come forth, like the Spring-time, fresh and green, -And sweet as Flora. Take no care -For jewels for your gown, or hair: -Fear not; the leaves will strew -Gems in abundance upon you: -Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, -Against you come, some orient pearls unwept: -Come, and receive them while the light -Hangs on the dew-locks of the night: -And Titan on the eastern hill -Retires himself, or else stands still -Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying: -Few beads are best, when once we go a Maying. - -Come, my Corinna, come; and coming, mark -How each field turns a street; each street a park -Made green, and trimm'd with trees: see how -Devotion gives each house a bough -Or branch: each porch, each door, ere this, -An ark, a tabernacle is -Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove; -As if here were those cooler shades of love. -Can such delights be in the street, -And open fields, and we not see't? -Come, we'll abroad: and let's obey -The proclamation made for May: -And sin no more, as we have done, by staying; -But, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying. - -There's not a budding boy, or girl, this day, -But is got up, and gone to bring in May. -A deal of youth, ere this, is come -Back, and with white-thorn laden home. -Some have dispatch'd their cakes and cream, -Before that we have left to dream: -And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth, -And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth: -Many a green-gown has been given; -Many a kiss, both odd and even: -Many a glance, too, has been sent -From out the eye, love's firmament: -Many a jest told of the keys betraying -This night, and locks pick'd:--yet we're not a Maying. - ---Come, let us go, while we are in our prime; -And take the harmless folly of the time! -We shall grow old apace, and die -Before we know our liberty. -Our life is short; and our days run -As fast away as does the sun:-- -And as a vapour, or a drop of rain -Once lost, can ne'er be found again: -So when or you or I are made -A fable, song, or fleeting shade; -All love, all liking, all delight -Lies drown'd with us in endless night. ---Then while time serves, and we are but decaying, -Come, my Corinna! come, let's go a Maying. - - -*26* - -THE MAYPOLE - -The May-pole is up, -Now give me the cup; -I'll drink to the garlands around it; -But first unto those -Whose hands did compose -The glory of flowers that crown'd it. - -A health to my girls, -Whose husbands may earls -Or lords be, granting my wishes, -And when that ye wed -To the bridal bed, -Then multiply all, like to fishes. - - -*27* - -THE WAKE - -Come, Anthea, let us two -Go to feast, as others do: -Tarts and custards, creams and cakes, -Are the junkets still at wakes; -Unto which the tribes resort, -Where the business is the sport: -Morris-dancers thou shalt see, -Marian, too, in pageantry; -And a mimic to devise -Many grinning properties. -Players there will be, and those -Base in action as in clothes; -Yet with strutting they will please -The incurious villages. -Near the dying of the day -There will be a cudgel-play, -Where a coxcomb will be broke, -Ere a good word can be spoke: -But the anger ends all here, -Drench'd in ale, or drown'd in beer. ---Happy rusticks! best content -With the cheapest merriment; -And possess no other fear, -Than to want the Wake next year. - - -*28* - -THE HOCK-CART, OR HARVEST HOME: -TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE MILDMAY, EARL OF WESTMORLAND - -Come, Sons of Summer, by whose toil -We are the lords of wine and oil: -By whose tough labours, and rough hands, -We rip up first, then reap our lands. -Crown'd with the ears of corn, now come, -And, to the pipe, sing Harvest Home. - -Come forth, my lord, and see the cart -Drest up with all the country art. -See, here a maukin, there a sheet, -As spotless pure, as it is sweet: -The horses, mares, and frisking fillies, -Clad, all, in linen white as lilies. -The harvest swains and wenches bound -For joy, to see the Hock-Cart crown'd. -About the cart, hear, how the rout -Of rural younglings raise the shout; -Pressing before, some coming after, -Those with a shout, and these with laughter. -Some bless the cart; some kiss the sheaves; -Some prank them up with oaken leaves: -Some cross the fill-horse; some with great -Devotion, stroke the home-borne wheat: -While other rustics, less attent -To prayers, than to merriment, -Run after with their breeches rent. ---Well, on, brave boys, to your lord's hearth, -Glitt'ring with fire; where, for your mirth, -Ye shall see first the large and chief -Foundation of your feast, fat beef; -With upper stories, mutton, veal -And bacon, which makes full the meal, -With sev'ral dishes standing by, -As here a custard, there a pie, -And here, all tempting frumenty. -And for to make the merry cheer, -If smirking wine be wanting here, -There's that which drowns all care, stout beer: -Which freely drink to your lord's health -Then to the plough, the common-wealth; -Next to your flails, your fanes, your vats; -Then to the maids with wheaten hats: -To the rough sickle, and crookt scythe,-- -Drink, frolic, boys, till all be blythe. -Feed, and grow fat; and as ye eat, -Be mindful, that the lab'ring neat, -As you, may have their fill of meat. -And know, besides, ye must revoke -The patient ox unto the yoke, -And all go back unto the plough -And harrow, though they're hang'd up now. -And, you must know, your lord's word's true, -Feed him ye must, whose food fills you; -And that this pleasure is like rain, -Not sent ye for to drown your pain, -But for to make it spring again. - - -*29* - -THE BRIDE-CAKE - -This day, my Julia, thou must make -For Mistress Bride the wedding-cake: -Knead but the dough, and it will be -To paste of almonds turn'd by thee; -Or kiss it thou but once or twice, -And for the bride-cake there'll be spice. - - -*30* - -THE OLD WIVES' PRAYER - -Holy-Rood, come forth and shield -Us i' th' city and the field; -Safely guard us, now and aye, -From the blast that burns by day; -And those sounds that us affright -In the dead of dampish night; -Drive all hurtful fiends us fro, -By the time the cocks first crow. - - -*31* - -THE BELL-MAN - -From noise of scare-fires rest ye free -From murders, Benedicite; -From all mischances that may fright -Your pleasing slumbers in the night -Mercy secure ye all, and keep -The goblin from ye, while ye sleep. ---Past one a clock, and almost two,-- -My masters all, 'Good day to you.' - - -*33* - -TO THE GENIUS OF HIS HOUSE - -Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence -Into this house pour down thy influence, -That through each room a golden pipe may run -Of living water by thy benizon; -Fulfil the larders, and with strength'ning bread -Be ever-more these bins replenished. -Next, like a bishop consecrate my ground, -That lucky fairies here may dance their round; -And, after that, lay down some silver pence, -The master's charge and care to recompence. -Charm then the chambers; make the beds for ease, -More than for peevish pining sicknesses; -Fix the foundation fast, and let the roof -Grow old with time, but yet keep weather-proof. - - -*33* - -HIS GRANGE, OR PRIVATE WEALTH - -Though clock, -To tell how night draws hence, I've none, -A cock -I have to sing how day draws on: -I have -A maid, my Prue, by good luck sent, -To save -That little, Fates me gave or lent. -A hen -I keep, which, creeking day by day, -Tells when -She goes her long white egg to lay: -A goose -I have, which, with a jealous ear, -Lets loose -Her tongue, to tell what danger's near. -A lamb -I keep, tame, with my morsels fed, -Whose dam -An orphan left him, lately dead: -A cat -I keep, that plays about my house, -Grown fat -With eating many a miching mouse: -To these -A Trasy I do keep, whereby -I please -The more my rural privacy: -Which are -But toys, to give my heart some ease:-- -Where care -None is, slight things do lightly please. - - -*34* - -A PASTORAL UPON THE BIRTH OF PRINCE CHARLES: -PRESENTED TO THE KING, AND SET BY MR NIC. LANIERE - -THE SPEAKERS: MIRTILLO, AMINTAS, AND AMARILLIS - -AMIN. Good day, Mirtillo. MIRT. And to you no less; -And all fair signs lead on our shepherdess. -AMAR. With all white luck to you. MIRT. But say, -What news -Stirs in our sheep-walk? AMIN. None, save that my -ewes, -My wethers, lambs, and wanton kids are well, -Smooth, fair, and fat; none better I can tell: -Or that this day Menalchas keeps a feast -For his sheep-shearers. MIRT. True, these are the least. -But dear Amintas, and sweet Amarillis, -Rest but a while here by this bank of lilies; -And lend a gentle ear to one report -The country has. AMIN. From whence? AMAR. From -whence? MIRT. The Court. -Three days before the shutting-in of May, -(With whitest wool be ever crown'd that day!) -To all our joy, a sweet-faced child was born, -More tender than the childhood of the morn. -CHORUS:--Pan pipe to him, and bleats of lambs and -sheep -Let lullaby the pretty prince asleep! -MIRT. And that his birth should be more singular, -At noon of day was seen a silver star, -Bright as the wise men's torch, which guided them -To God's sweet babe, when born at Bethlehem; -While golden angels, some have told to me, -Sung out his birth with heav'nly minstrelsy. -AMIN. O rare! But is't a trespass, if we three -Should wend along his baby-ship to see? -MIRT. Not so, not so. CHOR. But if it chance to prove -At most a fault, 'tis but a fault of love. -AMAR. But, dear Mirtillo, I have heard it told, -Those learned men brought incense, myrrh, and gold, -From countries far, with store of spices sweet, -And laid them down for offerings at his feet. -MIRT. 'Tis true, indeed; and each of us will bring -Unto our smiling and our blooming King, -A neat, though not so great an offering. -AMAR. A garland for my gift shall be, -Of flowers ne'er suck'd by th' thieving bee; -And all most sweet, yet all less sweet than he. -AMIN. And I will bear along with you -Leaves dropping down the honied dew, -With oaten pipes, as sweet, as new. -MIRT. And I a sheep-hook will bestow -To have his little King-ship know, -As he is Prince, he's Shepherd too. -CHOR. Come, let's away, and quickly let's be drest, -And quickly give:--the swiftest grace is best. -And when before him we have laid our treasures, -We'll bless the babe:--then back to country pleasures. - - -*35* - -A DIALOGUE BETWIXT HIMSELF AND MISTRESS ELIZA -WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF AMARILLIS - -My dearest Love, since thou wilt go, -And leave me here behind thee; -For love or pity, let me know -The place where I may find thee. - -AMARIL. In country meadows, pearl'd with dew, -And set about with lilies; -There, filling maunds with cowslips, you -May find your Amarillis. - -HER. What have the meads to do with thee, -Or with thy youthful hours? -Live thou at court, where thou mayst be -The queen of men, not flowers. - -Let country wenches make 'em fine -With posies, since 'tis fitter -For thee with richest gems to shine, -And like the stars to glitter. - -AMARIL. You set too-high a rate upon -A shepherdess so homely. -HER. Believe it, dearest, there's not one -I' th' court that's half so comely. - -I prithee stay. AMARIL. I must away; -Let's kiss first, then we'll sever; -AMBO And though we bid adieu to day, -We shall not part for ever. - - -*36* - -A BUCOLIC BETWIXT TWO; -LACON AND THYRSIS - -LACON. For a kiss or two, confess, -What doth cause this pensiveness, -Thou most lovely neat-herdess? -Why so lonely on the hill? -Why thy pipe by thee so still, -That erewhile was heard so shrill? -Tell me, do thy kine now fail -To fulfil the milking-pail? -Say, what is't that thou dost ail? - -THYR. None of these; but out, alas! -A mischance is come to pass, -And I'll tell thee what it was: -See, mine eyes are weeping ripe. -LACON. Tell, and I'll lay down my pipe. - -THYR. I have lost my lovely steer, -That to me was far more dear -Than these kine which I milk here; -Broad of forehead, large of eye, -Party-colour'd like a pye, -Smooth in each limb as a die; -Clear of hoof, and clear of horn, -Sharply pointed as a thorn; -With a neck by yoke unworn, -From the which hung down by strings, -Balls of cowslips, daisy rings, -Interplaced with ribbonings; -Faultless every way for shape; -Not a straw could him escape, -Ever gamesome as an ape, -But yet harmless as a sheep. -Pardon, Lacon, if I weep; -Tears will spring where woes are deep. -Now, ai me! ai me! Last night -Came a mad dog, and did bite, -Ay, and kill'd my dear delight. - -LACON Alack, for grief! -THYR. But I'll be brief. -Hence I must, for time doth call -Me, and my sad playmates all, -To his evening funeral. -Live long, Lacon; so adieu! - -LACON Mournful maid, farewell to you; -Earth afford ye flowers to strew! - - -*37* - -A PASTORAL SUNG TO THE KING - -MONTANO, SILVIO, AND MIRTILLO, SHEPHERDS - -MON. Bad are the times. SIL. And worse than they are we. -MON. Troth, bad are both; worse fruit, and ill the tree: -The feast of shepherds fail. SIL. None crowns the cup -Of wassail now, or sets the quintel up: -And he, who used to lead the country-round, -Youthful Mirtillo, here he comes, grief-drown'd. -AMBO. Let's cheer him up. SIL. Behold him weeping-ripe. -MIRT. Ah, Amarillis! farewell mirth and pipe; -Since thou art gone, no more I mean to play -To these smooth lawns, my mirthful roundelay. -Dear Amarillis! MON. Hark! SIL. Mark! MIRT. This -earth grew sweet -Where, Amarillis, thou didst set thy feet. -AMBO Poor pitied youth! MIRT. And here the breath -of kine -And sheep grew more sweet by that breath of thine. -This dock of wool, and this rich lock of hair, -This ball of cowslips, these she gave me here. -SIL. Words sweet as love itself. MON. Hark!-- -MIRT. This way she came, and this way too she went; -How each thing smells divinely redolent! -Like to a field of beans, when newly blown, -Or like a meadow being lately mown. -MON. A sweet sad passion---- -MIRT. In dewy mornings, when she came this way, -Sweet bents would bow, to give my Love the day; -And when at night she folded had her sheep, -Daisies would shut, and closing, sigh and weep. -Besides (Ai me!) since she went hence to dwell, -The Voice's Daughter ne'er spake syllable. -But she is gone. SIL. Mirtillo, tell us whither? -MIRT. Where she and I shall never meet together. -MON. Fore-fend it, Pan! and Pales, do thou please -To give an end... MIRT. To what? SIL. Such griefs -as these. -MIRT. Never, O never! Still I may endure -The wound I suffer, never find a cure. -MON. Love, for thy sake, will bring her to these hills -And dales again. MIRT. No, I will languish still; -And all the while my part shall be to weep; -And with my sighs call home my bleating sheep; -And in the rind of every comely tree -I'll carve thy name, and in that name kiss thee. -MON. Set with the sun, thy woes! SIL. The day -grows old; -And time it is our full-fed flocks to fold. -CHOR. The shades grow great; but greater grows -our sorrow:-- -But let's go steep -Our eyes in sleep; -And meet to weep -To-morrow. - - -*38* - -TO THE WILLOW-TREE - -Thou art to all lost love the best, -The only true plant found, -Wherewith young men and maids distrest -And left of love, are crown'd. - -When once the lover's rose is dead -Or laid aside forlorn, -Then willow-garlands, 'bout the head, -Bedew'd with tears, are worn. - -When with neglect, the lover's bane, -Poor maids rewarded be, -For their love lost their only gain -Is but a wreath from thee. - -And underneath thy cooling shade, -When weary of the light, -The love-spent youth, and love-sick maid, -Come to weep out the night. - - -*39* - -THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR, OBERON'S CHAPEL - -DEDICATED TO MR JOHN MERRIFIELD, -COUNSELLOR AT LAW - -RARE TEMPLES THOU HAST SEEN, I KNOW, -AND RICH FOR IN AND OUTWARD SHOW; -SURVEY THIS CHAPEL BUILT, ALONE, -WITHOUT OR LIME, OR WOOD, OR STONE. -THEN SAY, IF ONE THOU'ST SEEN MORE FINE -THAN THIS, THE FAIRIES' ONCE, NOW THINE. - -THE TEMPLE - -A way enchaced with glass and beads -There is, that to the Chapel leads; -Whose structure, for his holy rest, -Is here the Halcyon's curious nest; -Into the which who looks, shall see -His Temple of Idolatry; -Where he of god-heads has such store, -As Rome's Pantheon had not more. -His house of Rimmon this he calls, -Girt with small bones, instead of walls. -First in a niche, more black than jet, -His idol-cricket there is set; -Then in a polish'd oval by -There stands his idol-beetle-fly; -Next, in an arch, akin to this, -His idol-canker seated is. -Then in a round, is placed by these -His golden god, Cantharides. -So that where'er ye look, ye see -No capital, no cornice free, -Or frieze, from this fine frippery. -Now this the Fairies would have known, -Theirs is a mixt religion: -And some have heard the elves it call -Part Pagan, part Papistical. -If unto me all tongues were granted, -I could not speak the saints here painted. -Saint Tit, Saint Nit, Saint Is, Saint Itis, -Who 'gainst Mab's state placed here right is. -Saint Will o' th' Wisp, of no great bigness, -But, alias, call'd here FATUUS IGNIS. -Saint Frip, Saint Trip, Saint Fill, Saint Filly;-- -Neither those other saint-ships will I -Here go about for to recite -Their number, almost infinite; -Which, one by one, here set down are -In this most curious calendar. - -First, at the entrance of the gate, -A little puppet-priest doth wait, -Who squeaks to all the comers there, -'Favour your tongues, who enter here. -'Pure hands bring hither, without stain.' -A second pules, 'Hence, hence, profane!' -Hard by, i' th' shell of half a nut, -The holy-water there is put; -A little brush of squirrels' hairs, -Composed of odd, not even pairs, -Stands in the platter, or close by, -To purge the fairy family. -Near to the altar stands the priest, -There offering up the holy-grist; -Ducking in mood and perfect tense, -With (much good do't him) reverence. -The altar is not here four-square, -Nor in a form triangular; -Nor made of glass, or wood, or stone, -But of a little transverse bone; -Which boys and bruckel'd children call -(Playing for points and pins) cockall. -Whose linen-drapery is a thin, -Subtile, and ductile codling's skin; -Which o'er the board is smoothly spread -With little seal-work damasked. -The fringe that circumbinds it, too, -Is spangle-work of trembling dew, -Which, gently gleaming, makes a show, -Like frost-work glitt'ring on the snow. -Upon this fetuous board doth stand -Something for shew-bread, and at hand -(Just in the middle of the altar) -Upon an end, the Fairy-psalter, -Graced with the trout-flies' curious wings, -Which serve for watchet ribbonings. -Now, we must know, the elves are led -Right by the Rubric, which they read: -And if report of them be true, -They have their text for what they do; -Ay, and their book of canons too. -And, as Sir Thomas Parson tells, -They have their book of articles; -And if that Fairy knight not lies -They have their book of homilies; -And other Scriptures, that design -A short, but righteous discipline. -The bason stands the board upon -To take the free-oblation; -A little pin-dust, which they hold -More precious than we prize our gold; -Which charity they give to many -Poor of the parish, if there's any. -Upon the ends of these neat rails, -Hatch'd with the silver-light of snails, -The elves, in formal manner, fix -Two pure and holy candlesticks, -In either which a tall small bent -Burns for the altar's ornament. -For sanctity, they have, to these, -Their curious copes and surplices -Of cleanest cobweb, hanging by -In their religious vestery. -They have their ash-pans and their brooms, -To purge the chapel and the rooms; -Their many mumbling mass-priests here, -And many a dapper chorister. -Their ush'ring vergers here likewise, -Their canons and their chaunteries; -Of cloister-monks they have enow, -Ay, and their abbey-lubbers too:-- -And if their legend do not lie, -They much affect the papacy; -And since the last is dead, there's hope -Elve Boniface shall next be Pope. -They have their cups and chalices, -Their pardons and indulgences, -Their beads of nits, bells, books, and wax- -Candles, forsooth, and other knacks; -Their holy oil, their fasting-spittle, -Their sacred salt here, not a little. -Dry chips, old shoes, rags, grease, and bones, -Beside their fumigations. -Many a trifle, too, and trinket, -And for what use, scarce man would think it. -Next then, upon the chanter's side -An apple's-core is hung up dried, -With rattling kernels, which is rung -To call to morn and even-song. -The saint, to which the most he prays -And offers incense nights and days, -The lady of the lobster is, -Whose foot-pace he doth stroke and kiss, -And, humbly, chives of saffron brings -For his most cheerful offerings. -When, after these, he's paid his vows, -He lowly to the altar bows; -And then he dons the silk-worm's shed, -Like a Turk's turban on his head, -And reverently departeth thence, -Hid in a cloud of frankincense; -And by the glow-worm's light well guided, -Goes to the Feast that's now provided. - - -*40* - -OBERON'S FEAST - -SHAPCOT! TO THE THE FAIRY STATE -I WITH DISCRETION DEDICATE: -BECAUSE THOU PRIZEST THINGS THAT ARE -CURIOUS AND UNFAMILIAR. -TAKE FIRST THE FEAST; THESE DISHES GONE, -WE'LL SEE THE FAIRY COURT ANON. - -A little mushroom-table spread, -After short prayers, they set on bread, -A moon-parch'd grain of purest wheat, -With some small glitt'ring grit, to eat -His choice bits with; then in a trice -They make a feast less great than nice. -But all this while his eye is served, -We must not think his ear was sterved; -But that there was in place to stir -His spleen, the chirring grasshopper, -The merry cricket, puling fly, -The piping gnat for minstrelsy. -And now, we must imagine first, -The elves present, to quench his thirst, -A pure seed-pearl of infant dew, -Brought and besweeten'd in a blue -And pregnant violet; which done, -His kitling eyes begin to run -Quite through the table, where he spies -The horns of papery butterflies, -Of which he eats; and tastes a little -Of that we call the cuckoo's spittle; -A little fuz-ball pudding stands -By, yet not blessed by his hands, -That was too coarse; but then forthwith -He ventures boldly on the pith -Of sugar'd rush, and eats the sagge -And well-bestrutted bees' sweet bag; -Gladding his palate with some store -Of emmets' eggs; what would he more? -But beards of mice, a newt's stew'd thigh, -A bloated earwig, and a fly; -With the red-capt worm, that's shut -Within the concave of a nut, -Brown as his tooth. A little moth, -Late fatten'd in a piece of cloth; -With wither'd cherries, mandrakes' ears, -Moles' eyes: to these the slain stag's tears; -The unctuous dewlaps of a snail, -The broke-heart of a nightingale -O'ercome in music; with a wine -Ne'er ravish'd from the flattering vine, -But gently prest from the soft side -Of the most sweet and dainty bride, -Brought in a dainty daisy, which -He fully quaffs up, to bewitch -His blood to height; this done, commended -Grace by his priest; The feast is ended. - - -*41* - -THE BEGGAR TO MAB, THE FAIRY QUEEN - -Please your Grace, from out your store -Give an alms to one that's poor, -That your mickle may have more. -Black I'm grown for want of meat, -Give me then an ant to eat, -Or the cleft ear of a mouse -Over-sour'd in drink of souce; -Or, sweet lady, reach to me -The abdomen of a bee; -Or commend a cricket's hip, -Or his huckson, to my scrip; -Give for bread, a little bit -Of a pease that 'gins to chit, -And my full thanks take for it. -Flour of fuz-balls, that's too good -For a man in needy-hood; -But the meal of mill-dust can -Well content a craving man; -Any orts the elves refuse -Well will serve the beggar's use. -But if this may seem too much -For an alms, then give me such -Little bits that nestle there -In the pris'ner's pannier. -So a blessing light upon -You, and mighty Oberon; -That your plenty last till when -I return your alms again. - - -*42* - -THE HAG - -The Hag is astride, -This night for to ride, -The devil and she together; -Through thick and through thin, -Now out, and then in, -Though ne'er so foul be the weather. - -A thorn or a bur -She takes for a spur; -With a lash of a bramble she rides now, -Through brakes and through briars, -O'er ditches and mires, -She follows the spirit that guides now. - -No beast, for his food, -Dares now range the wood, -But hush'd in his lair he lies lurking; -While mischiefs, by these, -On land and on seas, -At noon of night are a-working. - -The storm will arise, -And trouble the skies -This night; and, more for the wonder, -The ghost from the tomb -Affrighted shall come, -Call'd out by the clap of the thunder. - - -*43* - -THE MAD MAID'S SONG - -Good morrow to the day so fair; -Good morning, sir, to you; -Good morrow to mine own torn hair, -Bedabbled with the dew. - -Good morning to this primrose too; -Good morrow to each maid; -That will with flowers the tomb bestrew -Wherein my Love is laid. - -Ah! woe is me, woe, woe is me, -Alack and well-a-day! -For pity, sir, find out that bee, -Which bore my Love away. - -I'll seek him in your bonnet brave; -I'll seek him in your eyes; -Nay, now I think they've made his grave -I' th' bed of strawberries. - -I'll seek him there; I know, ere this, -The cold, cold earth doth shake him; -But I will go, or send a kiss -By you, sir, to awake him. - -Pray hurt him not; though he be dead, -He knows well who do love him; -And who with green turfs rear his head, -And who do rudely move him. - -He's soft and tender, pray take heed, -With bands of cowslips bind him, -And bring him home;--but 'tis decreed -That I shall never find him. - - -*44* - -THE CHEAT OF CUPID; OR, THE UNGENTLE GUEST - -One silent night of late, -When every creature rested, -Came one unto my gate, -And knocking, me molested. - -Who's that, said I, beats there, -And troubles thus the sleepy? -Cast off; said he, all fear, -And let not locks thus keep ye. - -For I a boy am, who -By moonless nights have swerved; -And all with showers wet through, -And e'en with cold half starved. - -I pitiful arose, -And soon a taper lighted; -And did myself disclose -Unto the lad benighted. - -I saw he had a bow, -And wings too, which did shiver; -And looking down below, -I spied he had a quiver. - -I to my chimney's shine -Brought him, as Love professes, -And chafed his hands with mine, -And dried his dropping tresses. - -But when he felt him warm'd, -Let's try this bow of ours -And string, if they be harm'd, -Said he, with these late showers. - -Forthwith his bow he bent, -And wedded string and arrow, -And struck me, that it went -Quite through my heart and marrow - -Then laughing loud, he flew -Away, and thus said flying, -Adieu, mine host, adieu, -I'll leave thy heart a-dying. - - -*45* - -UPON CUPID - -Love, like a gipsy, lately came, -And did me much importune -To see my hand, that by the same -He might foretell my fortune. - -He saw my palm; and then, said he, -I tell thee, by this score here, -That thou, within few months, shalt be -The youthful Prince D'Amour here. - -I smiled, and bade him once more prove, -And by some cross-line show it, -That I could ne'er be Prince of Love, -Though here the Princely Poet. - - -*46* - -TO BE MERRY - -Let's now take our time, -While we're in our prime, -And old, old age is afar off; -For the evil, evil days -Will come on apace, -Before we can be aware of. - - -*47* - -UPON HIS GRAY HAIRS - -Fly me not, though I be gray, -Lady, this I know you'll say; -Better look the roses red, -When with white commingled. -Black your hairs are; mine are white; -This begets the more delight, -When things meet most opposite; -As in pictures we descry -Venus standing Vulcan by. - - -*48* - -AN HYMN TO THE MUSES - -Honour to you who sit -Near to the well of wit, -And drink your fill of it! - -Glory and worship be -To you, sweet Maids, thrice three, -Who still inspire me; - -And teach me how to sing -Unto the lyric string, -My measures ravishing! - -Then, while I sing your praise, -My priest-hood crown with bays -Green to the end of days! - - -*49* - -THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK - -So Good-Luck came, and on my roof did light, -Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night; -Not all at once, but gently,--as the trees -Are by the sun-beams, tickled by degrees. - - -*50* - -HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY - -HERE, Here I live with what my board -Can with the smallest cost afford; -Though ne'er so mean the viands be, -They well content my Prue and me: -Or pea or bean, or wort or beet, -Whatever comes, Content makes sweet. -Here we rejoice, because no rent -We pay for our poor tenement; -Wherein we rest, and never fear -The landlord or the usurer. -The quarter-day does ne'er affright -Our peaceful slumbers in the night: -We eat our own, and batten more, -Because we feed on no man's score; -But pity those whose flanks grow great, -Swell'd with the lard of other's meat. -We bless our fortunes, when we see -Our own beloved privacy; -And like our living, where we're known -To very few, or else to none. - - -*51* - -HIS RETURN TO LONDON - -From the dull confines of the drooping west, -To see the day spring from the pregnant east, -Ravish'd in spirit, I come, nay more, I fly -To thee, blest place of my nativity! -Thus, thus with hallow'd foot I touch the ground, -With thousand blessings by thy fortune crown'd. -O fruitful Genius! that bestowest here -An everlasting plenty year by year; -O place! O people! manners! framed to please -All nations, customs, kindreds, languages! -I am a free-born Roman; suffer then -That I amongst you live a citizen. -London my home is; though by hard fate sent -Into a long and irksome banishment; -Yet since call'd back, henceforward let me be, -O native country, repossess'd by thee! -For, rather than I'll to the west return, -I'll beg of thee first here to have mine urn. -Weak I am grown, and must in short time fall; -Give thou my sacred reliques burial. - - -*52* - -HIS DESIRE - -Give me a man that is not dull, -When all the world with rifts is full; -But unamazed dares clearly sing, -Whenas the roof's a-tottering; -And though it falls, continues still -Tickling the Cittern with his quill. - - -*53* - -AN ODE FOR BEN JONSON - -Ah Ben! -Say how or when -Shall we, thy guests, -Meet at those lyric feasts, -Made at the Sun, -The Dog, the Triple Tun; -Where we such clusters had, -As made us nobly wild, not mad? -And yet each verse of thine -Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine. - -My Ben! -Or come again, -Or send to us -Thy wit's great overplus; -But teach us yet -Wisely to husband it, -Lest we that talent spend; -And having once brought to an end -That precious stock,--the store -Of such a wit the world should have no more. - - -*54* - -TO LIVE MERRILY, -AND TO TRUST TO GOOD VERSES - -Now is the time for mirth; -Nor cheek or tongue be dumb; -For with [the] flowery earth -The golden pomp is come. - -The golden pomp is come; -For now each tree does wear, -Made of her pap and gum, -Rich beads of amber here. - -Now reigns the Rose, and now -Th' Arabian dew besmears -My uncontrolled brow, -And my retorted hairs. - -Homer, this health to thee! -In sack of such a kind, -That it would make thee see, -Though thou wert ne'er so blind - -Next, Virgil I'll call forth, -To pledge this second health -In wine, whose each cup's worth -An Indian commonwealth. - -A goblet next I'll drink -To Ovid; and suppose -Made he the pledge, he'd think -The world had all one nose. - -Then this immensive cup -Of aromatic wine, -Catullus! I quaff up -To that terse muse of thine. - -Wild I am now with heat: -O Bacchus! cool thy rays; -Or frantic I shall eat -Thy Thyrse, and bite the Bays! - -Round, round, the roof does run; -And being ravish'd thus, -Come, I will drink a tun -To my Propertius. - -Now, to Tibullus next, -This flood I drink to thee; ---But stay, I see a text, -That this presents to me. - -Behold! Tibullus lies -Here burnt, whose small return -Of ashes scarce suffice -To fill a little urn. - -Trust to good verses then; -They only will aspire, -When pyramids, as men, -Are lost i' th' funeral fire. - -And when all bodies meet -In Lethe to be drown'd; -Then only numbers sweet -With endless life are crown'd. - - -*55* - -THE APPARITION OF HIS, MISTRESS, -CALLING HIM TO ELYSIUM - -DESUNT NONNULLA-- - -Come then, and like two doves with silvery wings, -Let our souls fly to th' shades, wherever springs -Sit smiling in the meads; where balm and oil, -Roses and cassia, crown the untill'd soil; -Where no disease reigns, or infection comes -To blast the air, but amber-gris and gums. -This, that, and ev'ry thicket doth transpire -More sweet than storax from the hallow'd fire; -Where ev'ry tree a wealthy issue bears -Of fragrant apples, blushing plums, or pears; -And all the shrubs, with sparkling spangles, shew -Like morning sun-shine, tinselling the dew. -Here in green meadows sits eternal May, -Purfling the margents, while perpetual day -So double-gilds the air, as that no night -Can ever rust th' enamel of the light: -Here naked younglings, handsome striplings, run -Their goals for virgins' kisses; which when done, -Then unto dancing forth the learned round -Commix'd they meet, with endless roses crown'd. -And here we'll sit on primrose-banks, and see -Love's chorus led by Cupid; and we'll he -Two loving followers too unto the grove, -Where poets sing the stories of our love. -There thou shalt hear divine Musaeus sing -Of Hero and Leander; then I'll bring -Thee to the stand, where honour'd Homer reads -His Odyssees and his high Iliads; -About whose throne the crowd of poets throng -To hear the incantation of his tongue: -To Linus, then to Pindar; and that done, -I'll bring thee, Herrick, to Anacreon, -Quaffing his full-crown'd bowls of burning wine, -And in his raptures speaking lines of thine, -Like to his subject; and as his frantic -Looks shew him truly Bacchanalian like, -Besmear'd with grapes,--welcome he shall thee thither, -Where both may rage, both drink and dance together. -Then stately Virgil, witty Ovid, by -Whom fair Corinna sits, and doth comply -With ivory wrists his laureat head, and steeps -His eye in dew of kisses while he sleeps. -Then soft Catullus, sharp-fang'd Martial, -And towering Lucan, Horace, Juvenal, -And snaky Persius; these, and those whom rage, -Dropt for the jars of heaven, fill'd, t' engage -All times unto their frenzies; thou shalt there -Behold them in a spacious theatre: -Among which glories, crown'd with sacred bays -And flatt'ring ivy, two recite their plays, -Beaumont and Fletcher, swans, to whom all ears -Listen, while they, like sirens in their spheres, -Sing their Evadne; and still more for thee -There yet remains to know than thou canst see -By glimm'ring of a fancy; Do but come, -And there I'll shew thee that capacious room -In which thy father, Jonson, now is placed -As in a globe of radiant fire, and graced -To be in that orb crown'd, that doth include -Those prophets of the former magnitude, -And he one chief. But hark! I hear the cock, -The bell-man of the night, proclaim the clock -Of late struck One; and now I see the prime -Of day break from the pregnant east:--'tis time -I vanish:--more I had to say, -But night determines here; Away! - - -*56* - -THE INVITATION - -To sup with thee thou didst me home invite, -And mad'st a promise that mine appetite -Should meet and tire, on such lautitious meat, -The like not Heliogabalus did eat: -And richer wine would'st give to me, thy guest, -Than Roman Sylla pour'd out at his feast. -I came, 'tis true, and look'd for fowl of price, -The bastard Phoenix; bird of Paradise; -And for no less than aromatic wine -Of maidens-blush, commix'd with jessamine. -Clean was the hearth, the mantle larded jet, -Which, wanting Lar and smoke, hung weeping wet; -At last i' th' noon of winter, did appear -A ragg'd soused neats-foot, with sick vinegar; -And in a burnish'd flagonet, stood by -Beer small as comfort, dead as charity. -At which amazed, and pond'ring on the food, -How cold it was, and how it chill'd my blood, -I curst the master, and I damn'd the souce, -And swore I'd got the ague of the house. ---Well, when to eat thou dost me next desire, -I'll bring a fever, since thou keep'st no fire. - - -*57* - -TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW - -Since to the country first I came, -I have lost my former flame; -And, methinks, I not inherit, -As I did, my ravish'd spirit. -If I write a verse or two, -'Tis with very much ado; -In regard I want that wine -Which should conjure up a line. -Yet, though now of Muse bereft, -I have still the manners left -For to thank you, noble sir, -For those gifts you do confer -Upon him, who only can -Be in prose a grateful man. - - -*58* - -A COUNTRY LIFE: -TO HIS BROTHER, MR THOMAS HERRICK - -Thrice, and above, blest, my soul's half, art thou, -In thy both last and better vow; -Could'st leave the city, for exchange, to see -The country's sweet simplicity; -And it to know and practise, with intent -To grow the sooner innocent; -By studying to know virtue, and to aim -More at her nature than her name; -The last is but the least; the first doth tell -Ways less to live, than to live well:-- -And both are known to thee, who now canst live -Led by thy conscience, to give -Justice to soon-pleased nature, and to show -Wisdom and she together go, -And keep one centre; This with that conspires -To teach man to confine desires, -And know that riches have their proper stint -In the contented mind, not mint; -And canst instruct that those who have the itch -Of craving more, are never rich. -These things thou knows't to th' height, and dost prevent -That plague, because thou art content -With that Heaven gave thee with a wary hand, -(More blessed in thy brass than land) -To keep cheap Nature even and upright; -To cool, not cocker appetite. -Thus thou canst tersely live to satisfy -The belly chiefly, not the eye; -Keeping the barking stomach wisely quiet, -Less with a neat than needful diet. -But that which most makes sweet thy country life, -Is the fruition of a wife, -Whom, stars consenting with thy fate, thou hast -Got not so beautiful as chaste; -By whose warm side thou dost securely sleep, -While Love the sentinel doth keep, -With those deeds done by day, which ne'er affright -Thy silken slumbers in the night: -Nor has the darkness power to usher in -Fear to those sheets that know no sin. -The damask'd meadows and the pebbly streams -Sweeten and make soft your dreams: -The purling springs, groves, birds, and well weaved bowers, -With fields enamelled with flowers, -Present their shapes, while fantasy discloses -Millions of Lilies mix'd with Roses. -Then dream, ye hear the lamb by many a bleat -Woo'd to come suck the milky teat; -While Faunus in the vision comes, to keep -From rav'ning wolves the fleecy sheep: -With thousand such enchanting dreams, that meet -To make sleep not so sound as sweet; -Nor call these figures so thy rest endear, -As not to rise when Chanticlere -Warns the last watch;--but with the dawn dost rise -To work, but first to sacrifice; -Making thy peace with Heaven for some late fault, -With holy-meal and spirting salt; -Which done, thy painful thumb this sentence tells us, -'Jove for our labour all things sells us.' -Nor are thy daily and devout affairs -Attended with those desp'rate cares -Th' industrious merchant has, who for to find -Gold, runneth to the Western Ind, -And back again, tortured with fears, doth fly, -Untaught to suffer Poverty;-- -But thou at home, blest with securest ease, -Sitt'st, and believ'st that there be seas, -And watery dangers; while thy whiter hap -But sees these things within thy map; -And viewing them with a more safe survey, -Mak'st easy fear unto thee say, -'A heart thrice walled with oak and brass, that man -Had, first durst plough the ocean.' -But thou at home, without or tide or gale, -Canst in thy map securely sail; -Seeing those painted countries, and so guess -By those fine shades, their substances; -And from thy compass taking small advice, -Buy'st travel at the lowest price. -Nor are thine ears so deaf but thou canst hear, -Far more with wonder than with fear, -Fame tell of states, of countries, courts, and kings, -And believe there be such things; -When of these truths thy happier knowledge lies -More in thine ears than in thine eyes. -And when thou hear'st by that too true report, -Vice rules the most, or all, at court, -Thy pious wishes are, though thou not there, -Virtue had, and moved her sphere. -But thou liv'st fearless; and thy face ne'er shows -Fortune when she comes, or goes; -But with thy equal thoughts, prepared dost stand -To take her by the either hand; -Nor car'st which comes the first, the foul or fair:-- -A wise man ev'ry way lies square; -And like a surly oak with storms perplex'd -Grows still the stronger, strongly vex'd. -Be so, bold Spirit; stand centre-like, unmoved; -And be not only thought, but proved -To be what I report thee, and inure -Thyself, if want comes, to endure; -And so thou dost; for thy desires are -Confined to live with private Lar: -Nor curious whether appetite be fed -Or with the first, or second bread. -Who keep'st no proud mouth for delicious cates; -Hunger makes coarse meats, delicates. -Canst, and unurged, forsake that larded fare, -Which art, not nature, makes so rare; -To taste boil'd nettles, coleworts, beets, and eat -These, and sour herbs, as dainty meat:-- -While soft opinion makes thy Genius say, -'Content makes all ambrosia;' -Nor is it that thou keep'st this stricter size -So much for want, as exercise; -To numb the sense of dearth, which, should sin haste it, -Thou might'st but only see't, not taste it; -Yet can thy humble roof maintain a quire -Of singing crickets by thy fire; -And the brisk mouse may feast herself with crumbs, -Till that the green-eyed kitling comes; -Then to her cabin, blest she can escape -The sudden danger of a rape. ---And thus thy little well-kept stock doth prove, -Wealth cannot make a life, but love. -Nor art thou so close-handed, but canst spend, -(Counsel concurring with the end), -As well as spare; still conning o'er this theme, -To shun the first and last extreme; -Ordaining that thy small stock find no breach, -Or to exceed thy tether's reach; -But to live round, and close, and wisely true -To thine own self, and known to few. -Thus let thy rural sanctuary be -Elysium to thy wife and thee; -There to disport your selves with golden measure; -For seldom use commends the pleasure. -Live, and live blest; thrice happy pair; let breath, -But lost to one, be th' other's death: -And as there is one love, one faith, one troth, -Be so one death, one grave to both; -Till when, in such assurance live, ye may -Nor fear, or wish your dying day. - - -*59* - -TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS - -Since shed or cottage I have none, -I sing the more, that thou hast one; -To whose glad threshold, and free door -I may a Poet come, though poor; -And eat with thee a savoury bit, -Paying but common thanks for it. ---Yet should I chance, my Wicks, to see -An over-leaven look in thee, -To sour the bread, and turn the beer -To an exalted vinegar; -Or should'st thou prize me as a dish -Of thrice-boil'd worts, or third-day's fish, -I'd rather hungry go and come -Than to thy house be burdensome; -Yet, in my depth of grief, I'd be -One that should drop his beads for thee. - - -*60* - -A PARANAETICALL, OR ADVISIVE VERSE -TO HIS FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS - -Is this a life, to break thy sleep, -To rise as soon as day doth peep? -To tire thy patient ox or ass -By noon, and let thy good days pass, -Not knowing this, that Jove decrees -Some mirth, t' adulce man's miseries? ---No; 'tis a life to have thine oil -Without extortion from thy soil; -Thy faithful fields to yield thee grain, -Although with some, yet little pain; -To have thy mind, and nuptial bed, -With fears and cares uncumbered -A pleasing wife, that by thy side -Lies softly panting like a bride; ---This is to live, and to endear -Those minutes Time has lent us here. -Then, while fates suffer, live thou free, -As is that air that circles thee; -And crown thy temples too; and let -Thy servant, not thy own self, sweat, -To strut thy barns with sheaves of wheat. ---Time steals away like to a stream, -And we glide hence away with them: -No sound recalls the hours once fled, -Or roses, being withered; -Nor us, my friend, when we are lost, -Like to a dew, or melted frost. ---Then live we mirthful while we should, -And turn the iron age to gold; -Let's feast and frolic, sing and play, -And thus less last, than live our day. -Whose life with care is overcast, -That man's not said to live, but last; -Nor is't a life, seven years to tell, -But for to live that half seven well; -And that we'll do, as men who know, -Some few sands spent, we hence must go, -Both to be blended in the urn, -From whence there's never a return. - - -*61* - -TO HIS HONOURED AND MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND -MR CHARLES COTTON - -For brave comportment, wit without offence, -Words fully flowing, yet of influence, -Thou art that man of men, the man alone -Worthy the public admiration; -Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write, -And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight; -Tell'st when a verse springs high; how understood -To be, or not, born of the royal blood -What state above, what symmetry below, -Lines have, or should have, thou the best can show:-- -For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be, -Not so much known, as to be loved of thee:-- -Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays -Be less another's laurel, than thy praise. - - -*62* - -A NEW YEAR'S GIFT, -SENT TO SIR SIMEON STEWARD - -No news of navies burnt at seas; -No noise of late spawn'd tittyries; -No closet plot or open vent, -That frights men with a Parliament: -No new device or late-found trick, -To read by th' stars the kingdom's sick; -No gin to catch the State, or wring -The free-born nostril of the King, -We send to you; but here a jolly -Verse crown'd with ivy and with holly; -That tells of winter's tales and mirth -That milk-maids make about the hearth; -Of Christmas sports, the wassail-bowl, -That toss'd up, after Fox-i'-th'-hole; -Of Blind-man-buff, and of the care -That young men have to shoe the Mare; -Of twelf-tide cakes, of pease and beans, -Wherewith ye make those merry scenes, -Whenas ye chuse your king and queen, -And cry out, 'Hey for our town green!'-- -Of ash-heaps, in the which ye use -Husbands and wives by streaks to chuse; -Of crackling laurel, which fore-sounds -A plenteous harvest to your grounds; -Of these, and such like things, for shift, -We send instead of New-year's gift. ---Read then, and when your faces shine -With buxom meat and cap'ring wine, -Remember us in cups full crown'd, -And let our city-health go round, -Quite through the young maids and the men, -To the ninth number, if not ten; -Until the fired chestnuts leap -For joy to see the fruits ye reap, -From the plump chalice and the cup -That tempts till it be tossed up.-- -Then as ye sit about your embers, -Call not to mind those fled Decembers; -But think on these, that are t' appear, -As daughters to the instant year; -Sit crown'd with rose-buds, and carouse, -Till LIBER PATER twirls the house -About your ears, and lay upon -The year, your cares, that's fled and gone: -And let the russet swains the plough -And harrow hang up resting now; -And to the bag-pipe all address, -Till sleep takes place of weariness. -And thus throughout, with Christmas plays, -Frolic the full twelve holy-days. - - -*63* - -AN ODE TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW - -Here we securely live, and eat -The cream of meat; -And keep eternal fires, -By which we sit, and do divine, -As wine -And rage inspires. - -If full, we charm; then call upon -Anacreon -To grace the frantic Thyrse: -And having drunk, we raise a shout -Throughout, -To praise his verse. - -Then cause we Horace to be read, -Which sung or said, -A goblet, to the brim, -Of lyric wine, both swell'd and crown'd, -Around -We quaff to him. - -Thus, thus we live, and spend the hours -In wine and flowers; -And make the frolic year, -The month, the week, the instant day -To stay -The longer here. - ---Come then, brave Knight, and see the cell -Wherein I dwell; -And my enchantments too; -Which love and noble freedom is:-- -And this -Shall fetter you. - -Take horse, and come; or be so kind -To send your mind, -Though but in numbers few:-- -And I shall think I have the heart -Or part -Of Clipsby Crew. - - -*64* - -A PANEGYRIC TO SIR LEWIS PEMBERTON - -Till I shall come again, let this suffice, -I send my salt, my sacrifice -To thee, thy lady, younglings, and as far -As to thy Genius and thy Lar; -To the worn threshold, porch, hall, parlour, kitchen, -The fat-fed smoking temple, which in -The wholesome savour of thy mighty chines, -Invites to supper him who dines: -Where laden spits, warp'd with large ribs of beef, -Not represent, but give relief -To the lank stranger and the sour swain, -Where both may feed and come again; -For no black-bearded Vigil from thy door -Beats with a button'd-staff the poor; -But from thy warm love-hatching gates, each may -Take friendly morsels, and there stay -To sun his thin-clad members, if he likes; -For thou no porter keep'st who strikes. -No comer to thy roof his guest-rite wants; -Or, staying there, is scourged with taunts -Of some rough groom, who, yirk'd with corns, says, 'Sir, -'You've dipp'd too long i' th' vinegar; -'And with our broth and bread and bits, Sir friend, -'You've fared well; pray make an end; -'Two days you've larded here; a third, ye know, -'Makes guests and fish smell strong; pray go -'You to some other chimney, and there take -'Essay of other giblets; make -'Merry at another's hearth; you're here -'Welcome as thunder to our beer; -'Manners knows distance, and a man unrude -'Would soon recoil, and not intrude -'His stomach to a second meal.'--No, no, -Thy house, well fed and taught, can show -No such crabb'd vizard: Thou hast learnt thy train -With heart and hand to entertain; -And by the arms-full, with a breast unhid, -As the old race of mankind did, -When either's heart, and either's hand did strive -To be the nearer relative; -Thou dost redeem those times: and what was lost -Of ancient honesty, may boast -It keeps a growth in thee, and so will run -A course in thy fame's pledge, thy son. -Thus, like a Roman Tribune, thou thy gate -Early sets ope to feast, and late; -Keeping no currish waiter to affright, -With blasting eye, the appetite, -Which fain would waste upon thy cates, but that -The trencher creature marketh what -Best and more suppling piece he cuts, and by -Some private pinch tells dangers nigh, -A hand too desp'rate, or a knife that bites -Skin-deep into the pork, or lights -Upon some part of kid, as if mistook, -When checked by the butler's look. -No, no, thy bread, thy wine, thy jocund beer -Is not reserved for Trebius here, -But all who at thy table seated are, -Find equal freedom, equal fare; -And thou, like to that hospitable god, -Jove, joy'st when guests make their abode -To eat thy bullocks thighs, thy veals, thy fat -Wethers, and never grudged at. -The pheasant, partridge, gotwit, reeve, ruff, rail, -The cock, the curlew, and the quail, -These, and thy choicest viands, do extend -Their tastes unto the lower end -Of thy glad table; not a dish more known -To thee, than unto any one: -But as thy meat, so thy immortal wine -Makes the smirk face of each to shine, -And spring fresh rose-buds, while the salt, the wit, -Flows from the wine, and graces it; -While Reverence, waiting at the bashful board, -Honours my lady and my lord. -No scurril jest, no open scene is laid -Here, for to make the face afraid; -But temp'rate mirth dealt forth, and so discreet- -Ly, that it makes the meat more sweet, -And adds perfumes unto the wine, which thou -Dost rather pour forth, than allow -By cruse and measure; thus devoting wine, -As the Canary isles were thine; -But with that wisdom and that method, as -No one that's there his guilty glass -Drinks of distemper, or has cause to cry -Repentance to his liberty. -No, thou know'st orders, ethics, and hast read -All oeconomics, know'st to lead -A house-dance neatly, and canst truly show -How far a figure ought to go, -Forward or backward, side-ward, and what pace -Can give, and what retract a grace; -What gesture, courtship, comeliness agrees, -With those thy primitive decrees, -To give subsistence to thy house, and proof -What Genii support thy roof, -Goodness and greatness, not the oaken piles; -For these, and marbles have their whiles -To last, but not their ever; virtue's hand -It is which builds 'gainst fate to stand. -Such is thy house, whose firm foundations trust -Is more in thee than in her dust, -Or depth; these last may yield, and yearly shrink, -When what is strongly built, no chink -Or yawning rupture can the same devour, -But fix'd it stands, by her own power -And well-laid bottom, on the iron and rock, -Which tries, and counter-stands the shock -And ram of time, and by vexation grows -The stronger. Virtue dies when foes -Are wanting to her exercise, but, great -And large she spreads by dust and sweat. -Safe stand thy walls, and thee, and so both will, -Since neither's height was raised by th'ill -Of others; since no stud, no stone, no piece -Was rear'd up by the poor-man's fleece; -No widow's tenement was rack'd to gild -Or fret thy cieling, or to build -A sweating-closet, to anoint the silk- -Soft skin, or bath[e] in asses' milk; -No orphan's pittance, left him, served to set -The pillars up of lasting jet, -For which their cries might beat against thine ears, -Or in the damp jet read their tears. -No plank from hallow'd altar does appeal -To yond' Star-chamber, or does seal -A curse to thee, or thine; but all things even -Make for thy peace, and pace to heaven. ---Go on directly so, as just men may -A thousand times more swear, than say -This is that princely Pemberton, who can -Teach men to keep a God in man; -And when wise poets shall search out to see -Good men, they find them all in thee. - - -*65* - -ALL THINGS DECAY AND DIE - -All things decay with time: The forest sees -The growth and down-fall of her aged trees; -That timber tall, which three-score lustres stood -The proud dictator of the state-like wood, -I mean the sovereign of all plants, the oak, -Droops, dies, and falls without the cleaver's stroke. - - -*66* - -TO HIS DYING BROTHER, MASTER WILLIAM HERRICK - -Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight, -But stay the time till we have bade good-night. -Thou hast both wind and tide with thee; thy way -As soon dispatch'd is by the night as day. -Let us not then so rudely henceforth go -Till we have wept, kiss'd, sigh'd, shook hands, or so. -There's pain in parting, and a kind of hell -When once true lovers take their last farewell. -What? shall we two our endless leaves take here -Without a sad look, or a solemn tear? -He knows not love that hath not this truth proved, -Love is most loth to leave the thing beloved. -Pay we our vows and go; yet when we part, -Then, even then, I will bequeath my heart -Into thy loving hands; for I'll keep none -To warm my breast, when thou, my pulse, art gone, -No, here I'll last, and walk, a harmless shade, -About this urn, wherein thy dust is laid, -To guard it so, as nothing here shall be -Heavy, to hurt those sacred seeds of thee. - - -*67* - -HIS AGE: -DEDICATED TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, -MR JOHN WICKES, UNDER THE NAME OF -POSTUMUS - -Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly -And leave no sound: nor piety, -Or prayers, or vow -Can keep the wrinkle from the brow; -But we must on, -As fate does lead or draw us; none, -None, Posthumus, could e'er decline -The doom of cruel Proserpine. - -The pleasing wife, the house, the ground -Must all be left, no one plant found -To follow thee, -Save only the curst cypress-tree! ---A merry mind -Looks forward, scorns what's left behind; -Let's live, my Wickes, then, while we may, -And here enjoy our holiday. - -We've seen the past best times, and these -Will ne'er return; we see the seas, -And moons to wane, -But they fill up their ebbs again; -But vanish'd man, -Like to a lily lost, ne'er can, -Ne'er can repullulate, or bring -His days to see a second spring. - -But on we must, and thither tend, -Where Ancus and rich Tullus blend -Their sacred seed; -Thus has infernal Jove decreed; -We must be made, -Ere long a song, ere long a shade. -Why then, since life to us is short, -Let's make it full up by our sport. - -Crown we our heads with roses then, -And 'noint with Tyrian balm; for when -We two are dead, -The world with us is buried. -Then live we free -As is the air, and let us be -Our own fair wind, and mark each one -Day with the white and lucky stone. - -We are not poor, although we have -No roofs of cedar, nor our brave -Baiae, nor keep -Account of such a flock of sheep; -Nor bullocks fed -To lard the shambles; barbels bred -To kiss our hands; nor do we wish -For Pollio's lampreys in our dish. - -If we can meet, and so confer, -Both by a shining salt-cellar, -And have our roof, -Although not arch'd, yet weather-proof, -And cieling free, -From that cheap candle-baudery; -We'll eat our bean with that full mirth -As we were lords of all the earth. - -Well, then, on what seas we are tost, -Our comfort is, we can't be lost. -Let the winds drive -Our bark, yet she will keep alive -Amidst the deeps; -'Tis constancy, my Wickes, which keeps -The pinnace up; which, though she errs -I' th' seas, she saves her passengers. - -Say, we must part; sweet mercy bless -Us both i' th' sea, camp, wilderness! -Can we so far -Stray, to become less circular -Than we are now? -No, no, that self-same heart, that vow -Which made us one, shall ne'er undo, -Or ravel so, to make us two. - -Live in thy peace; as for myself, -When I am bruised on the shelf -Of time, and show -My locks behung with frost and snow; -When with the rheum, -The cough, the pthisic, I consume -Unto an almost nothing; then, -The ages fled, I'll call again, - -And with a tear compare these last -Lame and bad times with those are past, -While Baucis by, -My old lean wife, shall kiss it dry; -And so we'll sit -By th' fire, foretelling snow and slit -And weather by our aches, grown -Now old enough to be our own - -True calendars, as puss's ear -Wash'd o'er 's, to tell what change is near; -Then to assuage -The gripings of the chine by age, -I'll call my young -Iulus to sing such a song -I made upon my Julia's breast, -And of her blush at such a feast. - -Then shall he read that flower of mine -Enclosed within a crystal shrine; -A primrose next; -A piece then of a higher text; -For to beget -In me a more transcendant heat, -Than that insinuating fire -Which crept into each aged sire - -When the fair Helen from her eyes -Shot forth her loving sorceries; -At which I'll rear -Mine aged limbs above my chair; -And hearing it, -Flutter and crow, as in a fit -Of fresh concupiscence, and cry, -'No lust there's like to Poetry.' - -Thus frantic, crazy man, God wot, -I'll call to mind things half-forgot; -And oft between -Repeat the times that I have seen; -Thus ripe with tears, -And twisting my Iulus' hairs, -Doting, I'll weep and say, 'In truth, -Baucis, these were my sins of youth.' - -Then next I'Il cause my hopeful lad, -If a wild apple can be had, -To crown the hearth; -Lar thus conspiring with our mirth; -Then to infuse -Our browner ale into the cruse; -Which, sweetly spiced, we'll first carouse -Unto the Genius of the house. - -Then the next health to friends of mine. -Loving the brave Burgundian wine, -High sons of pith, -Whose fortunes I have frolick'd with; -Such as could well -Bear up the magic bough and spell; -And dancing 'bout the mystic Thyrse, -Give up the just applause to verse; - -To those, and then again to thee, -We'll drink, my Wickes, until we be -Plump as the cherry, -Though not so fresh, yet full as merry -As the cricket, -The untamed heifer, or the pricket, -Until our tongues shall tell our ears, -We're younger by a score of years. - -Thus, till we see the fire less shine -From th' embers than the kitling's eyne, -We'll still sit up, -Sphering about the wassail cup, -To all those times -Which gave me honour for my rhymes; -The coal once spent, we'll then to bed, -Far more than night bewearied. - - -*68* - -THE BAD SEASON MAKES THE POET SAD - -Dull to myself, and almost dead to these, -My many fresh and fragrant mistresses; -Lost to all music now, since every thing -Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing. -Sick is the land to th' heart; and doth endure -More dangerous faintings by her desperate cure. -But if that golden age would come again, -And Charles here rule, as he before did reign; -If smooth and unperplex'd the seasons were, -As when the sweet Maria lived here; -I should delight to have my curls half drown'd -In Tyrian dews, and head with roses crown'd: -And once more yet, ere I am laid out dead, -Knock at a star with my exalted head. - - -*69* - -ON HIMSELF - -A wearied pilgrim I have wander'd here, -Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year; -Long I have lasted in this world; 'tis true -But yet those years that I have lived, but few. -Who by his gray hairs doth his lustres tell, -Lives not those years, but he that lives them well: -One man has reach'd his sixty years, but he -Of all those three-score has not lived half three: -He lives who lives to virtue; men who cast -Their ends for pleasure, do not live, but last. - - -*70* - -HIS WINDING-SHEET - -Come thou, who art the wine and wit -Of all I've writ; -The grace, the glory, and the best -Piece of the rest; -Thou art of what I did intend -The All, and End; -And what was made, was made to meet. -Thee, thee my sheet. -Come then, and be to my chaste side -Both bed and bride. -We two, as reliques left, will have -One rest, one grave; -And, hugging close, we need not fear -Lust entering here, -Where all desires are dead or cold, -As is the mould; -And all affections are forgot, -Or trouble not. -Here, here the slaves and prisoners be -From shackles free; -And weeping widows, long opprest, -Do here find rest. -The wronged client ends his laws -Here, and his cause; -Here those long suits of Chancery lie -Quiet, or die; -And all Star-chamber bills do cease, -Or hold their peace. -Here needs no court for our Request -Where all are best; -All wise, all equal, and all just -Alike i'th' dust. -Nor need we here to fear the frown -Of court or crown; -Where fortune bears no sway o'er things, -There all are kings. -In this securer place we'll keep, -As lull'd asleep; -Or for a little time we'll lie, -As robes laid by, -To be another day re-worn, -Turn'd, but not torn; -Or like old testaments engrost, -Lock'd up, not lost; -And for a-while lie here conceal'd, -To be reveal'd -Next, at that great Platonic year, -And then meet here. - - -*71* - -ANACREONTIC - -Born I was to be old, -And for to die here; -After that, in the mould -Long for to lie here. -But before that day comes, -Still I be bousing; -For I know, in the tombs -There's no carousing. - - -*72* - -TO LAURELS - -A funeral stone -Or verse, I covet none; -But only crave -Of you that I may have -A sacred laurel springing from my grave: -Which being seen -Blest with perpetual green, -May grow to be -Not so much call'd a tree, -As the eternal monument of me. - - -*73* - -ON HIMSELF - -Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light; -And weep for me, lost in an endless night; -Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me, -Who writ for many. BENEDICTE. - - -*74* - -ON HIMSELF - -Lost to the world; lost to myself; alone -Here now I rest under this marble stone, -In depth of silence, heard and seen of none. - - -*75* - -TO ROBIN RED-BREAST - -Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be -With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; -And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, -Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister! -For epitaph, in foliage, next write this: -HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS! - - -*76* - -THE OLIVE BRANCH - -Sadly I walk'd within the field, -To see what comfort it would yield; -And as I went my private way, -An olive-branch before me lay; -And seeing it, I made a stay, -And took it up, and view'd it; then -Kissing the omen, said Amen; -Be, be it so, and let this be -A divination unto me; -That in short time my woes shall cease, -And love shall crown my end with peace. - - -*77* - -THE PLAUDITE, OR END OF LIFE - -If after rude and boisterous seas -My wearied pinnace here finds ease; -If so it be I've gain'd the shore, -With safety of a faithful oar; -If having run my barque on ground, -Ye see the aged vessel crown'd; -What's to be done? but on the sands -Ye dance and sing, and now clap hands. ---The first act's doubtful, but (we say) -It is the last commends the Play. - - -* - -AMORES - -*78* - -TO GROVES - -Ye silent shades, whose each tree here -Some relique of a saint doth wear; -Who for some sweet-heart's sake, did prove -The fire and martyrdom of Love:-- -Here is the legend of those saints -That died for love, and their complaints; -Their wounded hearts, and names we find -Encarved upon the leaves and rind. -Give way, give way to me, who come -Scorch'd with the self-same martyrdom! -And have deserved as much, Love knows, -As to be canonized 'mongst those -Whose deeds and deaths here written are -Within your Greeny-kalendar. ---By all those virgins' fillets hung -Upon! your boughs, and requiems sung -For saints and souls departed hence, -Here honour'd still with frankincense; -By all those tears that have been shed, -As a drink-offering to the dead; -By all those true-love knots, that be -With mottoes carved on every tree; -By sweet Saint Phillis! pity me; -By dear Saint Iphis! and the rest -Of all those other saints now blest, -Me, me forsaken,--here admit -Among your myrtles to be writ; -That my poor name may have the glory -To live remember'd in your story. - - -** AMORES ** - - -*79* - -MRS ELIZ: WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF THE -LOST SHEPHERDESS - -Among the myrtles as I walk'd -Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd: -Tell me, said I, in deep distress, -Where I may find my Shepherdess? ---Thou fool, said Love, know'st thou not this? -In every thing that's sweet she is. -In yond' carnation go and seek, -There thou shalt find her lip and cheek; -In that enamell'd pansy by, -There thou shalt have her curious eye; -In bloom of peach and rose's bud, -There waves the streamer of her blood. ---'Tis true, said I; and thereupon -I went to pluck them one by one, -To make of parts an union; -But on a sudden all were gone. -At which I stopp'd; Said Love, these be -The true resemblances of thee; -For as these flowers, thy joys must die; -And in the turning of an eye; -And all thy hopes of her must wither, -Like those short sweets here knit together. - - -*80* - -A VOW TO VENUS - -Happily I had a sight -Of my dearest dear last night; -Make her this day smile on me, -And I'll roses give to thee! - - -*81* - -UPON LOVE - -A crystal vial Cupid brought, -Which had a juice in it: -Of which who drank, he said, no thought -Of Love he should admit. - -I, greedy of the prize, did drink, -And emptied soon the glass; -Which burnt me so, that I do think -The fire of hell it was. - -Give me my earthen cups again, -The crystal I contemn, -Which, though enchased with pearls, contain -A deadly draught in them. - -And thou, O Cupid! come not to -My threshold,--since I see, -For all I have, or else can do, -Thou still wilt cozen me. - - -*82* - -UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES - -Whenas in silks my Julia goes, -Till, then, methinks, how sweetly flows -That liquefaction of her clothes! -Next, when I cast mine eyes, and see -That brave vibration each way free; -O how that glittering taketh me! - - -*83* - -THE BRACELET TO JULIA - -Why I tie about thy wrist, -Julia, this my silken twist? -For what other reason is't, -But to shew thee how in part -Thou my pretty captive art? -But thy bond-slave is my heart; -'Tis but silk that bindeth thee, -Knap the thread and thou art free; -But 'tis otherwise with me; -I am bound, and fast bound so, -That from thee I cannot go; -If I could, I would not so. - - -*84* - -UPON JULIA'S RIBBON - -As shews the air when with a rain-bow graced, -So smiles that ribbon 'bout my Julia's waist; -Or like----Nay, 'tis that Zonulet of love, -Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove. - - -*85* - -TO JULIA - -How rich and pleasing thou, my Julia, art, -In each thy dainty and peculiar part! -First, for thy Queen-ship on thy head is set -Of flowers a sweet commingled coronet; -About thy neck a carkanet is bound, -Made of the Ruby, Pearl, and Diamond; -A golden ring, that shines upon thy thumb; -About thy wrist the rich Dardanium; -Between thy breasts, than down of swans more white, -There plays the Sapphire with the Chrysolite. -No part besides must of thyself be known, -But by the Topaz, Opal, Calcedon. - - -*86* - -ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA - -When I behold a forest spread -With silken trees upon thy head; -And when I see that other dress -Of flowers set in comeliness; -When I behold another grace -In the ascent of curious lace, -Which, like a pinnacle, doth shew -The top, and the top-gallant too; -Then, when I see thy tresses bound -Into an oval, square, or round, -And knit in knots far more than I. -Can tell by tongue, or True-love tie; -Next, when those lawny films I see -Play with a wild civility; -And all those airy silks to flow, -Alluring me, and tempting so-- -I must confess, mine eye and heart -Dotes less on nature than on art. - - -*87* - -HER BED - -See'st thou that cloud as silver clear, -Plump, soft, and swelling every where? -'Tis Julia's bed, and she sleeps there. - - -*88* - -THE ROCK OF RUBIES, AND THE QUARRY OF -PEARLS - -Some ask'd me where the Rubies grew: -And nothing I did say, -But with my finger pointed to -The lips of Julia. -Some ask'd how Pearls did grow, and where: -Then spoke I to my girl, -To part her lips, and shew me there -The quarrelets of Pearl. - - -*89* - -THE PARLIAMENT OF ROSES TO JULIA - -I dreamt the Roses one time went -To meet and sit in Parliament; -The place for these, and for the rest -Of flowers, was thy spotless breast. -Over the which a state was drawn -Of tiffany, or cob-web lawn; -Then in that Parly all those powers -Voted the Rose the Queen of flowers; -But so, as that herself should be -The Maid of Honour unto thee. - - -*90* - -UPON JULIA'S RECOVERY - -Droop, droop no more, or hang the head, -Ye roses almost withered; -Now strength, and newer purple get, -Each here declining violet. -O primroses! let this day be -A resurrection unto ye; -And to all flowers allied in blood, -Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood. -For health on Julia's cheek hath shed -Claret and cream commingled; -And those, her lips, do now appear -As beams of coral, but more clear. - - -*91* - -UPON JULIA'S HAIR FILLED WITH DEW - -Dew sate on Julia's hair, -And spangled too, -Like leaves that laden are -With trembling dew; -Or glitter'd to my sight, -As when the beams -Have their reflected light -Danced by the streams. - - -*92* - -CHERRY RIPE - -Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, -Full and fair ones; come, and buy: -If so be you ask me where -They do grow? I answer, there -Where my Julia's lips do smile;-- -There's the land, or cherry-isle; -Whose plantations fully show -All the year where cherries grow. - - -*93* - -THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER - -As Julia once a-slumb'ring lay, -It chanced a bee did fly that way, -After a dew, or dew-like shower, -To tipple freely in a flower; -For some rich flower, he took the lip -Of Julia, and began to sip; -But when he felt he suck'd from thence -Honey, and in the quintessence, -He drank so much he scarce could stir; -So Julia took the pilferer. -And thus surprised, as filchers use, -He thus began himself t'excuse: -'Sweet lady-flower, I never brought -Hither the least one thieving thought; -But taking those rare lips of yours -For some fresh, fragrant, luscious flowers, -I thought I might there take a taste, -Where so much sirup ran at waste. -Besides, know this, I never sting -The flower that gives me nourishing; -But with a kiss, or thanks, do pay -For honey that I bear away.' ---This said, he laid his little scrip -Of honey 'fore her ladyship, -And told her, as some tears did fall, -That, that he took, and that was all. -At which she smiled, and bade him go -And take his bag; but thus much know, -When next he came a-pilfering so, -He should from her full lips derive -Honey enough to fill his hive. - - -*94* - -UPON ROSES - -Under a lawn, than skies more clear, -Some ruffled Roses nestling were, -And snugging there, they seem'd to lie -As in a flowery nunnery; -They blush'd, and look'd more fresh than flowers -Quickened of late by pearly showers; -And all, because they were possest -But of the heat of Julia's breast, -Which, as a warm and moisten'd spring, -Gave them their ever-flourishing. - - -*95* - -HOW HIS SOUL CAME ENSNARED - -My soul would one day go and seek -For roses, and in Julia's cheek -A richess of those sweets she found, -As in another Rosamond; -But gathering roses as she was, -Not knowing what would come to pass, -it chanced a ringlet of her hair -Caught my poor soul, as in a snare; -Which ever since has been in thrall; ---Yet freedom she enjoys withal. - - -*96* - -UPON JULIA'S VOICE - -When I thy singing next shall hear, -I'll wish I might turn all to ear, -To drink-in notes and numbers, such -As blessed souls can't hear too much -Then melted down, there let me lie -Entranced, and lost confusedly; -And by thy music strucken mute, -Die, and be turn'd into a Lute. - - -*97* - -THE NIGHT PIECE: TO JULIA - -Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, -The shooting stars attend thee; -And the elves also, -Whose little eyes glow -Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. - -No Will-o'th'-Wisp mis-light thee, -Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee; -But on, on thy way, -Not making a stay, -Since ghost there's none to affright thee. - -Let not the dark thee cumber; -What though the moon does slumber? -The stars of the night -Will lend thee their light, -Like tapers clear, without number. - -Then, Julia, let me woo thee, -Thus, thus to come unto me; -And when I shall meet -Thy silvery feet, -My soul I'll pour into thee. - - -*98* - -HIS COVENANT OR PROTESTATION TO JULIA - -Why dost thou wound and break my heart, -As if we should for ever part? -Hast thou not heard an oath from me, -After a day, or two, or three, -I would come back and live with thee? -Take, if thou dost distrust that vow, -This second protestation now:-- -Upon thy cheek that spangled tear, -Which sits as dew of roses there, -That tear shall scarce be dried before -I'll kiss the threshold of thy door; -Then weep not, Sweet, but thus much know,-- -I'm half returned before I go. - - -*99* - -HIS SAILING FROM JULIA - -When that day comes, whose evening says I'm gone -Unto that watery desolation; -Devoutly to thy Closet-gods then pray, -That my wing'd ship may meet no Remora. -Those deities which circum-walk the seas, -And look upon our dreadful passages, -Will from all dangers re-deliver me, -For one drink-offering poured out by thee, -Mercy and Truth live with thee! and forbear, -In my short absence, to unsluice a tear; -But yet for love's-sake, let thy lips do this,-- -Give my dead picture one engendering kiss; -Work that to life, and let me ever dwell -In thy remembrance, Julia. So farewell. - - -*100* - -HIS LAST REQUEST TO JULIA - -I have been wanton, and too bold, I fear, -To chafe o'er-much the virgin's cheek or ear;-- -Beg for my pardon, Julia! he doth win -Grace with the gods who's sorry for his sin. -That done, my Julia, dearest Julia, come, -And go with me to chuse my burial room: -My fates are ended; when thy Herrick dies, -Clasp thou his book, then close thou up his eyes. - - -*101* - -THE TRANSFIGURATION - -Immortal clothing I put on -So soon as, Julia, I am gone -To mine eternal mansion. - -Thou, thou art here, to human sight -Clothed all with incorrupted light; ---But yet how more admir'dly bright - -Wilt thou appear, when thou art set -In thy refulgent thronelet, -That shin'st thus in thy counterfeit! - - -*102* - -LOVE DISLIKES NOTHING - -Whatsoever thing I see, -Rich or poor although it be, ---'Tis a mistress unto me. - -Be my girl or fair or brown, -Does she smile, or does she frown; -Still I write a sweet-heart down. - -Be she rough, or smooth of skin; -When I touch, I then begin -For to let affection in. - -Be she bald, or does she wear -Locks incurl'd of other hair; -I shall find enchantment there. - -Be she whole, or be she rent, -So my fancy be content, -She's to me most excellent. - -Be she fat, or be she lean; -Be she sluttish, be she clean; -I'm a man for every scene. - - -*103* - -UPON LOVE - -I held Love's head while it did ache; -But so it chanced to be, -The cruel pain did his forsake, -And forthwith came to me. - -Ai me! how shall my grief be still'd? -Or where else shall we find -One like to me, who must be kill'd -For being too-too-kind? - - -*104* - -TO DIANEME - -I could but see thee yesterday -Stung by a fretful bee; -And I the javelin suck'd away, -And heal'd the wound in thee. - -A thousand thorns, and briars, and stings -I have in my poor breast; -Yet ne'er can see that salve which brings -My passions any rest. - -As Love shall help me, I admire -How thou canst sit and smile -To see me bleed, and not desire -To staunch the blood the while. - -If thou, composed of gentle mould, -Art so unkind to me; -What dismal stories will be told -Of those that cruel be! - - -*105* - -TO PERENNA - -When I thy parts run o'er, I can't espy -In any one, the least indecency; -But every line and limb diffused thence -A fair and unfamiliar excellence; -So that the more I look, the more I prove -There's still more cause why I the more should love. - - -*106* - -TO OENONE. - -What conscience, say, is it in thee, -When I a heart had one, [won] -To take away that heart from me, -And to retain thy own? - -For shame or pity, now incline -To play a loving part; -Either to send me kindly thine, -Or give me back my heart. - -Covet not both; but if thou dost -Resolve to part with neither; -Why! yet to shew that thou art just, -Take me and mine together. - - -*107* - -TO ELECTRA - -I dare not ask a kiss, -I dare not beg a smile; -Lest having that, or this, -I might grow proud the while. - -No, no, the utmost share -Of my desire shall be, -Only to kiss that air -That lately kissed thee, - - -*108* - -TO ANTHEA, WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANY THING - -Bid me to live, and I will live -Thy Protestant to be; -Or bid me love, and I will give -A loving heart to thee. - -A heart as soft, a heart as kind, -A heart as sound and free -As in the whole world thou canst find, -That heart I'll give to thee. - -Bid that heart stay, and it will stay -To honour thy decree; -Or bid it languish quite away, -And't shall do so for thee. - -Bid me to weep, and I will weep, -While I have eyes to see; -And having none, yet I will keep -A heart to weep for thee. - -Bid me despair, and I'll despair, -Under that cypress tree; -Or bid me die, and I will dare -E'en death, to die for thee. - ---Thou art my life, my love, my heart, -The very eyes of me; -And hast command of every part, -To live and die for thee. - - -*109* - -ANTHEA'S RETRACTATION - -Anthea laugh'd, and, fearing lest excess -Might stretch the cords of civil comeliness -She with a dainty blush rebuked her face, -And call'd each line back to his rule and space. - - -*110* - -LOVE LIGHTLY PLEASED - -Let fair or foul my mistress be, -Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me; -Or let her walk, or stand, or sit, -The posture her's, I'm pleased with it; -Or let her tongue be still, or stir -Graceful is every thing from her; -Or let her grant, or else deny, -My love will fit each history. - - -*111* - -TO DIANEME - -Give me one kiss, -And no more: -If so be, this -Makes you poor -To enrich you, -I'll restore -For that one, two- -Thousand score. - - -*112* - -UPON HER EYES - -Clear are her eyes, -Like purest skies; -Discovering from thence -A baby there -That turns each sphere, -Like an Intelligence. - - -*113* - -UPON HER FEET - -Her pretty feet -Like snails did creep -A little out, and then, -As if they played at Bo-peep, -Did soon draw in again. - - -*114* - -UPON A DELAYING LADY - -Come, come away -Or let me go; -Must I here stay -Because you're slow, -And will continue so; ---Troth, lady, no. - -I scorn to be -A slave to state; -And since I'm free, -I will not wait, -Henceforth at such a rate, -For needy fate. - -If you desire -My spark should glow, -The peeping fire -You must blow; -Or I shall quickly grow -To frost, or snow. - - -*115* - -THE CRUEL MAID - ---AND, cruel maid, because I see -You scornful of my love, and me, -I'll trouble you no more, but go -My way, where you shall never know -What is become of me; there I -Will find me out a path to die, -Or learn some way how to forget -You and your name for ever;--yet -Ere I go hence, know this from me, -What will in time your fortune be; -This to your coyness I will tell; -And having spoke it once, Farewell. ---The lily will not long endure, -Nor the snow continue pure; -The rose, the violet, one day -See both these lady-flowers decay; -And you must fade as well as they. -And it may chance that love may turn, -And, like to mine, make your heart burn -And weep to see't; yet this thing do, -That my last vow commends to you; -When you shall see that I am dead, -For pity let a tear be shed; -And, with your mantle o'er me cast, -Give my cold lips a kiss at last; -If twice you kiss, you need not fear -That I shall stir or live more here. -Next hollow out a tomb to cover -Me, me, the most despised lover; -And write thereon, THIS, READER, KNOW; -LOVE KILL'D THIS MAN. No more, but so. - - -*116* - -TO HIS MISTRESS, OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER -TOYING OR TALKING - -You say I love not, 'cause I do not play -Still with your curls, and kiss the time away. -You blame me, too, because I can't devise -Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes; -By Love's religion, I must here confess it, -The most I love, when I the least express it. -Shall griefs find tongues; full casks are ever found -To give, if any, yet but little sound. -Deep waters noiseless are; and this we know, -That chiding streams betray small depth below. -So when love speechless is, she doth express -A depth in love, and that depth bottomless. -Now, since my love is tongueless, know me such, -Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much. - - -*117* - -IMPOSSIBILITIES: TO HIS FRIEND - -My faithful friend, if you can see -The fruit to grow up, or the tree; -If you can see the colour come -Into the blushing pear or plum; -If you can see the water grow -To cakes of ice, or flakes of snow; -If you can see that drop of rain -Lost in the wild sea once again; -If you can see how dreams do creep -Into the brain by easy sleep:-- ---Then there is hope that you may see -Her love me once, who now hates me. - - -*118* - -THE BUBBLE: A SONG - -To my revenge, and to her desperate fears, -Fly, thou made bubble of my sighs and tears! -In the wild air, when thou hast roll'd about, -And, like a blasting planet, found her out; -Stoop, mount, pass by to take her eye--then glare -Like to a dreadful comet in the air: -Next, when thou dost perceive her fixed sight -For thy revenge to be most opposite, -Then, like a globe, or ball of wild-fire, fly, -And break thyself in shivers on her eye! - - -*119* - -DELIGHT IN DISORDER - -A sweet disorder in the dress -Kindles in clothes a wantonness; -A lawn about the shoulders thrown -Into a fine distraction; -An erring lace, which here and there -Enthrals the crimson stomacher; -A cuff neglectful, and thereby -Ribbons to flow confusedly; -A winning wave, deserving note, -In the tempestuous petticoat; -A careless shoe-string, in whose tie -I see a wild civility;-- -Do more bewitch me, than when art -Is too precise in every part. - - -*120* - -TO SILVIA - -Pardon my trespass, Silvia! I confess -My kiss out-went the bounds of shamefacedness:-- -None is discreet at all times; no, not Jove -Himself, at one time, can be wise and love. - - -*121* - -TO SILVIA TO WED - -Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed; -And loving lie in one devoted bed. -Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post haste; -No sound calls back the year that once is past. -Then, sweetest Silvia, let's no longer stay; -True love, we know, precipitates delay. -Away with doubts, all scruples hence remove! -No man, at one time, can be wise, and love. - - -*122* - -BARLEY-BREAK; OR, LAST IN HELL - -We two are last in hell; what may we fear -To be tormented or kept pris'ners here I -Alas! if kissing be of plagues the worst, -We'll wish in hell we had been last and first. - - -*123* - -ON A PERFUMED LADY - -You say you're sweet: how should we know -Whether that you be sweet or no? ---From powders and perfumes keep free; -Then we shall smell how sweet you be! - - -*124* - -THE PARCAE; OR, THREE DAINTY DESTINIES: -THE ARMILET - -Three lovely sisters working were, -As they were closely set, -Of soft and dainty maiden-hair, -A curious Armilet. -I, smiling, ask'd them what they did, -Fair Destinies all three? -Who told me they had drawn a thread -Of life, and 'twas for me. -They shew'd me then how fine 'twas spun -And I replied thereto; -'I care not now how soon 'tis done, -Or cut, if cut by you.' - - -*125* - -A CONJURATION: TO ELECTRA - -By those soft tods of wool, -With which the air is full; -By all those tinctures there -That paint the hemisphere; -By dews and drizzling rain, -That swell the golden grain; -By all those sweets that be -I'th' flowery nunnery; -By silent nights, and the -Three forms of Hecate; -By all aspects that bless -The sober sorceress, -While juice she strains, and pith -To make her philtres with; -By Time, that hastens on -Things to perfection; -And by your self, the best -Conjurement of the rest; ---O, my Electra! be -In love with none but me. - - -*126* - -TO SAPHO - -Sapho, I will chuse to go -Where the northern winds do blow -Endless ice, and endless snow; -Rather than I once would see -But a winter's face in thee,-- -To benumb my hopes and me. - - -*127* - -OF LOVE: A SONNET - -How Love came in, I do not know, -Whether by th'eye, or ear, or no; -Or whether with the soul it came, -At first, infused with the same; -Whether in part 'tis here or there, -Or, like the soul, whole every where. -This troubles me; but I as well -As any other, this can tell; -That when from hence she does depart, -The outlet then is from the heart. - - -*128* - -TO DIANEME - -Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes, -Which, star-like, sparkle in their skies; -Nor be you proud, that you can see -All hearts your captives, yours, yet free; -Be you not proud of that rich hair -Which wantons with the love-sick air; -Whenas that ruby which you wear, -Sunk from the tip of your soft ear, -Will last to be a precious stone, -When all your world of beauty's gone. - - -*129* - -TO DIANEME - -Dear, though to part it be a hell, -Yet, Dianeme, now farewell! -Thy frown last night did bid me go, -But whither, only grief does know. -I do beseech thee, ere we part, -(If merciful, as fair thou art; -Or else desir'st that maids should tell -Thy pity by Love's chronicle) -O, Dianeme, rather kill -Me, than to make me languish still! -'Tis cruelty in thee to th' height, -Thus, thus to wound, not kill outright; -Yet there's a way found, if thou please, -By sudden death, to give me ease; -And thus devised,--do thou but this, ---Bequeath to me one parting kiss! -So sup'rabundant joy shall be -The executioner of me. - - -*130* - -KISSING USURY - -Biancha, let -Me pay the debt -I owe thee for a kiss -Thou lend'st to me; -And I to thee -Will render ten for this. - -If thou wilt say, -Ten will not pay -For that so rich a one; -I'll clear the sum, -If it will come -Unto a million. - -He must of right, -To th' utmost mite, -Make payment for his pleasure, -(By this I guess) -Of happiness -Who has a little measure. - - -*131* - -UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES - -I have lost, and lately, these -Many dainty mistresses:-- -Stately Julia, prime of all; -Sapho next, a principal: -Smooth Anthea, for a skin -White, and heaven-like crystalline: -Sweet Electra, and the choice -Myrha, for the lute and voice. -Next, Corinna, for her wit, -And the graceful use of it; -With Perilla:--All are gone; -Only Herrick's left alone, -For to number sorrow by -Their departures hence, and die. - - -*132* - -THE WOUNDED HEART - -Come, bring your sampler, and with art -Draw in't a wounded heart, -And dropping here and there; -Not that I think that any dart -Can make your's bleed a tear, -Or pierce it any where; -Yet do it to this end,--that I -May by -This secret see, -Though you can make -That heart to bleed, your's ne'er will ache -For me, - - -*133* - -HIS MISTRESS TO HIM AT HIS FAREWELL - -You may vow I'll not forget -To pay the debt -Which to thy memory stands as due -As faith can seal it you. ---Take then tribute of my tears; -So long as I have fears -To prompt me, I shall ever -Languish and look, but thy return see never. -Oh then to lessen my despair, -Print thy lips into the air, -So by this -Means, I may kiss thy kiss, -Whenas some kind -Wind -Shall hither waft it:--And, in lieu, -My lips shall send a thousand back to you. - - -*134* - -CRUTCHES - -Thou see'st me, Lucia, this year droop; -Three zodiacs fill'd more, I shall stoop; -Let crutches then provided be -To shore up my debility: -Then, while thou laugh'st, I'll sighing cry, -A ruin underpropt am I: -Don will I then my beadsman's gown; -And when so feeble I am grown -As my weak shoulders cannot bear -The burden of a grasshopper; -Yet with the bench of aged sires, -When I and they keep termly fires, -With my weak voice I'll sing, or say -Some odes I made of Lucia;-- -Then will I heave my wither'd hand -To Jove the mighty, for to stand -Thy faithful friend, and to pour down -Upon thee many a benison. - - -*135* - -TO ANTHEA - -Anthea, I am going hence -With some small stock of innocence; -But yet those blessed gates I see -Withstanding entrance unto me; -To pray for me do thou begin;-- -The porter then will let me in. - - -*136* - -TO ANTHEA - -Now is the time when all the lights wax dim; -And thou, Anthea, must withdraw from him -Who was thy servant: Dearest, bury me -Under that holy-oak, or gospel-tree; -Where, though thou see'st not, thou may'st think upon -Me, when thou yearly go'st procession; -Or, for mine honour, lay me in that tomb -In which thy sacred reliques shall have room; -For my embalming, Sweetest, there will be -No spices wanting, when I'm laid by thee. - - -*137* - -TO HIS LOVELY MISTRESSES - -One night i'th' year, my dearest Beauties, come, -And bring those dew-drink-offerings to my tomb; -When thence ye see my reverend ghost to rise, -And there to lick th' effused sacrifice, -Though paleness be the livery that I wear, -Look ye not wan or colourless for fear. -Trust me, I will not hurt ye, or once show -The least grim look, or cast a frown on you; -Nor shall the tapers, when I'm there, burn blue. -This I may do, perhaps, as I glide by,-- -Cast on my girls a glance, and loving eye; -Or fold mine arms, and sigh, because I've lost -The world so soon, and in it, you the most: ---Than these, no fears more on your fancies fall, -Though then I smile, and speak no words at all. - - -*138* - -TO PERlLLA - -Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve to see -Me, day by day, to steal away from thee? -Age calls me hence, and my gray hairs bid come, -And haste away to mine eternal home; -'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this, -That I must give thee the supremest kiss:-- -Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring -Part of the cream from that religious spring, -With which, Perilla, wash my hands and feet; -That done, then wind me in that very sheet -Which wrapt thy smooth limbs, when thou didst implore -The Gods' protection, but the night before; -Follow me weeping to my turf, and there -Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear: -Then lastly, let some weekly strewings be -Devoted to the memory of me; -Then shall my ghost not walk about, but keep -Still in the cool and silent shades of sleep. - - -*139* - -A MEDITATION FOR HIS MISTRESS - -You are a Tulip seen to-day, -But, Dearest, of so short a stay, -That where you grew, scarce man can say. - -You are a lovely July-flower; -Yet one rude wind, or ruffling shower, -Will force you hence, and in an hour. - -You are a sparkling Rose i'th' bud, -Yet lost, ere that chaste flesh and blood -Can show where you or grew or stood. - -You are a full-spread fair-set Vine, -And can with tendrils love entwine; -Yet dried, ere you distil your wine. - -You are like Balm, enclosed well -In amber, or some crystal shell; -Yet lost ere you transfuse your smell. - -You are a dainty Violet; -Yet wither'd, ere you can be set -Within the virgins coronet. - -You are the Queen all flowers among; -But die you must, fair maid, ere long, -As he, the maker of this song. - - -*140* - -TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME - -Gather ye rose-buds while ye may: -Old Time is still a-flying; -And this same flower that smiles to-day, -To-morrow will be dying. - -The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, -The higher he's a-getting, -The sooner will his race be run, -And nearer he's to setting. - -That age is best, which is the first, -When youth and blood are warmer; -But being spent, the worse, and worst -Times, still succeed the former. - ---Then be not coy, but use your time, -And while ye may, go marry; -For having lost but once your prime, -You may for ever tarry. - - -** EPIGRAMS ** - - -*141* - -POSTING TO PRINTING - -Let others to the printing-press run fast; -Since after death comes glory, I'll not haste. - - -*142* - -HIS LOSS - -All has been plunder'd from me but my wit: -Fortune herself can lay no claim to it. - - -*143* - -THINGS MORTAL STILL MUTABLE - -Things are uncertain; and the more we get, -The more on icy pavements we are set. - - -*144* - -NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY - -No man such rare parts hath, that he can swim, -If favour or occasion help not him. - - -*145* - -THE PRESENT TIME BEST PLEASETH - -Praise, they that will, times past: I joy to see -Myself now live; this age best pleaseth me! - - -*146* - -WANT - -Want is a softer wax, that takes thereon, -This, that, and every base impression, - - -*147* - -SATISFACTION FOR SUFFERINGS - -For all our works a recompence is sure; -'Tis sweet to think on what was hard t'endure. - - -*148* - -WRITING - -When words we want, Love teacheth to indite; -And what we blush to speak, she bids us write. - - -*149* - -THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY - -Beauty no other thing is, than a beam -Flash'd out between the middle and extreme. - - -*150* - -A MEAN IN OUR MEANS - -Though frankincense the deities require, -We must not give all to the hallow'd fire. -Such be our gifts, and such be our expense, -As for ourselves to leave some frankincense. - - -*151* - -MONEY MAKES THE MIRTH - -When all birds else do of their music fail, -Money's the still-sweet-singing nightingale! - - -*152* - -TEARS AND LAUGHTER - -Knew'st thou one month would take thy life away, -Thou'dst weep; but laugh, should it not last a day. - - -*153* - -UPON TEARS - -Tears, though they're here below the sinner's brine, -Above, they are the Angels' spiced wine. - - -*154* - -ON LOVE - -Love's of itself too sweet; the best of all -Is, when love's honey has a dash of gall. - - -*155* - -PEACE NOT PERMANENT - -Great cities seldom rest; if there be none -T' invade from far, they'll find worse foes at home. - - -*156* - -PARDONS - -Those ends in war the best contentment bring, -Whose peace is made up with a pardoning. - - -*157* - -TRUTH AND ERROR - -Twixt truth and error, there's this difference known -Error is fruitful, truth is only one. - - -*158* - -WlT PUNISHED PROSPERS MOST - -Dread not the shackles; on with thine intent, -Good wits get more fame by their punishment. - - -*159* - -BURIAL - -Man may want land to live in; but for all -Nature finds out some place for burial. - - -*160* - -NO PAINS, NO GAINS - -If little labour, little are our gains; -Man's fortunes are according to his pains. - - -*161* - -TO YOUTH - -Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may; -The morrow's life too late is; Live to-day. - - -*162* - -TO ENJOY THE TIME - -While fates permit us, let's be merry; -Pass all we must the fatal ferry; -And this our life, too, whirls away, -With the rotation of the day. - - -*163* - -FELICITY QUICK OF FLIGHT - -Every time seems short to be -That's measured by felicity; -But one half-hour that's made up here -With grief, seems longer than a year. - - -*164* - -MIRTH - -True mirth resides not in the smiling skin; -The sweetest solace is to act no sin. - - -*165* - -THE HEART - -In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part -Without the sweet concurrence of the heart. - - -*166* - -LOVE, WHAT IT IS - -Love is a circle, that doth restless move -In the same sweet eternity of Love. - - -*167* - -DREAMS - -Here we are all, by day; by night we're hurl'd -By dreams, each one into a several world. - - -*168* - -AMBITION - -In man, ambition is the common'st thing; -Each one by nature loves to be a king. - - -*169* - -SAFETY ON THE SHORE - -What though the sea be calm? Trust to the shore; -Ships have been drown'd, where late they danced before. - - -*170* - -UPON A PAINTED GENTLEWOMAN - -Men say you're fair; and fair ye are, 'tis true; -But, hark! we praise the painter now, not you. - - -*171* - -UPON WRINKLES - -Wrinkles no more are, or no less, -Than beauty turn'd to sourness. - - -*172* - -CASUALTIES - -Good things, that come of course, far less do please -Than those which come by sweet contingencies. - - -*173* - -TO LIVE FREELY - -Let's live in haste; use pleasures while we may; -Could life return, 'twould never lose a day. - - -*174* - -NOTHING FREE-COST - -Nothing comes free-cost here; Jove will not let -His gifts go from him, if not bought with sweat. - - -*175* - -MAN'S DYING-PLACE UNCERTAIN - -Man knows where first he ships himself; but he -Never can tell where shall his landing be. - - -*176* - -LOSS FROM THE LEAST - -Great men by small means oft are overthrown; -He's lord of thy life, who contemns his own. - - -*177* - -POVERTY AND RICHES - -Who with a little cannot be content, -Endures an everlasting punishment. - - -*178* - -UPON MAN - -Man is composed here of a twofold part; -The first of nature, and the next of art; -Art presupposes nature; nature, she -Prepares the way for man's docility. - - -*179* - -PURPOSES - -No wrath of men, or rage of seas, -Can shake a just man's purposes; -No threats of tyrants, or the grim -Visage of them can alter him; -But what he doth at first intend, -That he holds firmly to the end. - - -*180* - -FOUR THINGS MAKE US HAPPY HERE - -Health is the first good lent to men; -A gentle disposition then: -Next, to be rich by no by-ways; -Lastly, with friends t' enjoy our days. - - -*181* - -THE WATCH - -Man is a watch, wound up at first, but never -Wound up again; Once down, he's down for ever. -The watch once down, all motions then do cease; -The man's pulse stopt, all passions sleep in peace. - - -*182* - -UPON THE DETRACTER - -I ask'd thee oft what poets thou hast read, -And lik'st the best? Still thou repli'st, The dead. ---I shall, ere long, with green turfs cover'd be; -Then sure thou'lt like, or thou wilt envy, me. - - -*183* - -ON HlMSELF - -Live by thy Muse thou shalt, when others die, -Leaving no fame to long posterity; -When monarchies trans-shifted are, and gone, -Here shall endure thy vast dominion. - - -** NATURE AND LIFE ** - -*184* - -I CALL AND I CALL - -I call, I call: who do ye call? -The maids to catch this cowslip ball! -But since these cowslips fading be, -Troth, leave the flowers, and maids, take me! -Yet, if that neither you will do, -Speak but the word, and I'll take you, - - -*185* - -THE SUCCESSION OF THE FOUR SWEET MONTHS - -First, April, she with mellow showers -Opens the way for early flowers; -Then after her comes smiling May, -In a more rich and sweet array; -Next enters June, and brings us more -Gems than those two that went before; -Then, lastly, July comes, and she -More wealth brings in than all those three. - - -*186* - -TO BLOSSOMS - -Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, -Why do ye fall so fast? -Your date is not so past, -But you may stay yet here a-while, -To blush and gently smile; -And go at last. - -What, were ye born to be -An hour or half's delight; -And so to bid good-night? -'Twas pity Nature brought ye forth, -Merely to show your worth, -And lose you quite. - -But you are lovely leaves, where we -May read how soon things have -Their end, though ne'er so brave: -And after they have shown their pride, -Like you, a-while;--they glide -Into the grave. - - -*187* - -THE SHOWER OF BLOSSOMS - -Love in a shower of blossoms came -Down, and half drown'd me with the same; -The blooms that fell were white and red; -But with such sweets commingled, -As whether (this) I cannot tell, -My sight was pleased more, or my smell; -But true it was, as I roll'd there, -Without a thought of hurt or fear, -Love turn'd himself into a bee, -And with his javelin wounded me;--- -From which mishap this use I make; -Where most sweets are, there lies a snake; -Kisses and favours are sweet things; -But those have thorns, and these have stings. - - -*188* - -TO THE ROSE: SONG - -Go, happy Rose, and interwove -With other flowers, bind my Love. -Tell her, too, she must not be -Longer flowing, longer free, -That so oft has fetter'd me. - -Say, if she's fretful, I have bands -Of pearl and gold, to bind her hands; -Tell her, if she struggle still, -I have myrtle rods at will, -For to tame, though not to kill. - -Take thou my blessing thus, and go -And tell her this,--but do not so!-- -Lest a handsome anger fly -Like a lightning from her eye, -And burn thee up, as well as I! - - -*189* - -THE FUNERAL RITES OF THE ROSE - -The Rose was sick, and smiling died; -And, being to be sanctified, -About the bed, there sighing stood -The sweet and flowery sisterhood. -Some hung the head, while some did bring, -To wash her, water from the spring; -Some laid her forth, while others wept, -But all a solemn fast there kept. -The holy sisters some among, -The sacred dirge and trental sung; -But ah! what sweets smelt everywhere, -As heaven had spent all perfumes there! -At last, when prayers for the dead, -And rites, were all accomplished, -They, weeping, spread a lawny loom, -And closed her up as in a tomb. - - -*190* - -THE BLEEDING HAND; -OR THE SPRIG OF EGLANTINE GIVEN TO A MAID - -From this bleeding hand of mine, -Take this sprig of Eglantine: -Which, though sweet unto your smell, -Yet the fretful briar will tell, -He who plucks the sweets, shall prove -Many thorns to be in love. - - -*191* - -TO CARNATIONS: A SONG - -Stay while ye will, or go, -And leave no scent behind ye: -Yet trust me, I shall know -The place where I may find ye. - -Within my Lucia's cheek, -(Whose livery ye wear) -Play ye at hide or seek, -I'm sure to find ye there. - - -*192* - -TO PANSIES - -Ah, Cruel Love! must I endure -Thy many scorns, and find no cure? -Say, are thy medicines made to be -Helps to all others but to me? -I'll leave thee, and to Pansies come: -Comforts you'll afford me some: -You can ease my heart, and do -What Love could ne'er be brought unto. - - -*193* - -HOW PANSIES OR HEARTS-EASE CAME FIRST - -Frolic virgins once these were, -Overloving, living here; -Being here their ends denied -Ran for sweet-hearts mad, and died. -Love, in pity of their tears, -And their loss in blooming years, -For their restless here-spent hours, -Gave them hearts-ease turn'd to flowers. - - -*194* - -WHY FLOWERS CHANGE COLOUR - -These fresh beauties, we can prove, -Once were virgins, sick of love, -Turn'd to flowers: still in some, -Colours go and colours come. - - -*195* - -THE PRIMROSE - -Ask me why I send you here -This sweet Infanta of the year? -Ask me why I send to you -This Primrose, thus bepearl'd with dew? -I will whisper to your ears,-- -The sweets of love are mixt with tears. - -Ask me why this flower does show -So yellow-green, and sickly too? -Ask me why the stalk is weak -And bending, yet it doth not break? -I will answer,--these discover -What fainting hopes are in a lover. - - -*196* - -TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW - -Why do ye weep, sweet babes? can tears -Speak grief in you, -Who were but born -just as the modest morn -Teem'd her refreshing dew? -Alas, you have not known that shower -That mars a flower, -Nor felt th' unkind -Breath of a blasting wind, -Nor are ye worn with years; -Or warp'd as we, -Who think it strange to see, -Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young, -To speak by tears, before ye have a tongue. - -Speak, whimp'ring younglings, and make known -The reason why -Ye droop and weep; -Is it for want of sleep, -Or childish lullaby? -Or that ye have not seen as yet -The violet? -Or brought a kiss -From that Sweet-heart, to this? ---No, no, this sorrow shown -By your tears shed, -Would have this lecture read, -That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, -Conceived with grief are, and with tears brought forth. - - -*197* - -TO DAISIES, NOT TO SHUT SO SOON - -Shut not so soon; the dull-eyed night -Has not as yet begun -To make a seizure on the light, -Or to seal up the sun. - -No marigolds yet closed are, -No shadows great appear; -Nor doth the early shepherds' star -Shine like a spangle here. - -Stay but till my Julia close -Her life-begetting eye; -And let the whole world then dispose -Itself to live or die. - - -*198* - -TO DAFFADILS - -Fair Daffadils, we weep to see -You haste away so soon; -As yet the early-rising sun -Has not attain'd his noon. -Stay, stay, -Until the hasting day -Has run -But to the even-song; -And, having pray'd together, we -Will go with you along. - -We have short time to stay, as you; -We have as short a spring; -As quick a growth to meet decay, -As you, or any thing. -We die -As your hours do, and dry -Away, -Like to the summer's rain; -Or as the pearls of morning's dew, -Ne'er to be found again. - - -*199* - -TO VIOLETS - -Welcome, maids of honour, -You do bring -In the Spring; -And wait upon her. - -She has virgins many, -Fresh and fair; -Yet you are -More sweet than any. - -You're the maiden posies; -And so graced, -To be placed -'Fore damask roses. - ---Yet, though thus respected, -By and by -Ye do lie, -Poor girls, neglected. - - -*200* - -THE APRON OF FLOWERS - -To gather flowers, Sappha went, -And homeward she did bring -Within her lawny continent, -The treasure of the Spring. - -She smiling blush'd, and blushing smiled, -And sweetly blushing thus, -She look'd as she'd been got with child -By young Favonius. - -Her apron gave, as she did pass, -An odour more divine, -More pleasing too, than ever was -The lap of Proserpine. - - -*201* - -THE LILY IN A CRYSTAL - -You have beheld a smiling rose -When virgins' hands have drawn -O'er it a cobweb-lawn: -And here, you see, this lily shows, -Tomb'd in a crystal stone, -More fair in this transparent case -Than when it grew alone, -And had but single grace. - -You see how cream but naked is, -Nor dances in the eye -Without a strawberry; -Or some fine tincture, like to this, -Which draws the sight thereto, -More by that wantoning with it, -Than when the paler hue -No mixture did admit. - -You see how amber through the streams -More gently strokes the sight, -With some conceal'd delight, -Than when he darts his radiant beams -Into the boundless air; -Where either too much light his worth -Doth all at once impair, -Or set it little forth. - -Put purple grapes or cherries in- -To glass, and they will send -More beauty to commend -Them, from that clean and subtle skin, -Than if they naked stood, -And had no other pride at all, -But their own flesh and blood, -And tinctures natural. - -Thus lily, rose, grape, cherry, cream, -And strawberry do stir -More love, when they transfer -A weak, a soft, a broken beam; -Than if they should discover -At full their proper excellence, -Without some scene cast over, -To juggle with the sense. - -Thus let this crystall'd lily be -A rule, how far to teach -Your nakedness must reach; -And that no further than we see -Those glaring colours laid -By art's wise hand, but to this end -They should obey a shade, -Lest they too far extend. - ---So though you're white as swan or snow, -And have the power to move -A world of men to love; -Yet, when your lawns and silks shall flow, -And that white cloud divide -Into a doubtful twilight;--then, -Then will your hidden pride -Raise greater fires in men. - - -*202* - -TO MEADOWS - -Ye have been fresh and green, -Ye have been fill'd with flowers; -And ye the walks have been -Where maids have spent their hours. - -You have beheld how they -With wicker arks did come, -To kiss and bear away -The richer cowslips home. - -You've heard them sweetly sing, -And seen them in a round; -Each virgin, like a spring, -With honeysuckles crown'd. - -But now, we see none here, -Whose silvery feet did tread -And with dishevell'd hair -Adorn'd this smoother mead. - -Like unthrifts, having spent -Your stock, and needy grown -You're left here to lament -Your poor estates alone. - - -*203* - -TO A GENTLEWOMAN, OBJECTING TO HIM HIS -GRAY HAIRS - -Am I despised, because you say; -And I dare swear, that I am gray? -Know, Lady, you have but your day! -And time will come when you shall wear -Such frost and snow upon your hair; -And when, though long, it comes to pass, -You question with your looking-glass, -And in that sincere crystal seek -But find no rose-bud in your cheek, -Nor any bed to give the shew -Where such a rare carnation grew:- -Ah! then too late, close in your chamber keeping, -It will be told -That you are old,-- -By those true tears you're weeping. - - -*204* - -THE CHANGES: TO CORINNA - -Be not proud, but now incline -Your soft ear to discipline; -You have changes in your life, -Sometimes peace, and sometimes strife; -You have ebbs of face and flows, -As your health or comes or goes; -You have hopes, and doubts, and fears, -Numberless as are your hairs; -You have pulses that do beat -High, and passions less of heat; -You are young, but must be old:-- -And, to these, ye must be told, -Time, ere long, will come and plow -Loathed furrows in your brow: -And the dimness of your eye -Will no other thing imply, -But you must die -As well as I. - - -*205* - -UPON MRS ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF -AMARILLIS - -Sweet Amarillis, by a spring's -Soft and soul-melting murmurings, -Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flew -A Robin-red-breast; who at view, -Not seeing her at all to stir, -Brought leaves and moss to cover her: -But while he, perking, there did pry -About the arch of either eye, -The lid began to let out day,-- -At which poor Robin flew away; -And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved, -He chirpt for joy, to see himself deceived. - - -*206* - -NO FAULT IN WOMEN - -No fault in women, to refuse -The offer which they most would chuse. ---No fault: in women, to confess -How tedious they are in their dress; ---No fault in women, to lay on -The tincture of vermilion; -And there to give the cheek a dye -Of white, where Nature doth deny. ---No fault in women, to make show -Of largeness, when they're nothing so; -When, true it is, the outside swells -With inward buckram, little else. ---No fault in women, though they be -But seldom from suspicion free; ---No fault in womankind at all, -If they but slip, and never fall. - - -*207* - -THE BAG OF THE BEE - -About the sweet bag of a bee -Two Cupids fell at odds; -And whose the pretty prize should be -They vow'd to ask the Gods. - -Which Venus hearing, thither came, -And for their boldness stript them; -And taking thence from each his flame, -With rods of myrtle whipt them. - -Which done, to still their wanton cries, -When quiet grown she'd seen them, -She kiss'd and wiped their dove-like eyes, -And gave the bag between them. - - -*208* - -THE PRESENT; OR, THE BAG OF THE BEE: - -Fly to my mistress, pretty pilfering bee, -And say thou bring'st this honey-bag from me; -When on her lip thou hast thy sweet dew placed, -Mark if her tongue but slyly steal a taste; -If so, we live; if not, with mournful hum, -Toll forth my death; next, to my burial come. - - -*209* - -TO THE WATER-NYMPHS DRINKING AT THE -FOUNTAIN - -Reach with your whiter hands to me -Some crystal of the spring; -And I about the cup shall see -Fresh lilies flourishing. - -Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this-- -To th' glass your lips incline; -And I shall see by that one kiss -The water turn'd to wine. - - -*210* - -HOW SPRINGS CAME FIRST - -These springs were maidens once that loved, -But lost to that they most approved: -My story tells, by Love they were -Turn'd to these springs which we see here: -The pretty whimpering that they make, -When of the banks their leave they take, -Tells ye but this, they are the same, -In nothing changed but in their name. - - -*211* - -TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER - -As is your name, so is your comely face -Touch'd every where with such diffused grace, -As that in all that admirable round, -There is not one least solecism found; -And as that part, so every portion else -Keeps line for line with beauty's parallels. - - -*212* - -A HYMN TO THE GRACES - -When I love, as some have told -Love I shall, when I am old, -O ye Graces! make me fit -For the welcoming of it! -Clean my rooms, as temples be, -To entertain that deity; -Give me words wherewith to woo, -Suppling and successful too; -Winning postures; and withal, -Manners each way musical; -Sweetness to allay my sour -And unsmooth behaviour: -For I know you have the skill -Vines to prune, though not to kill; -And of any wood ye see, -You can make a Mercury. - - -*213* - -A HYMN TO LOVE - -I will confess -With cheerfulness, -Love is a thing so likes me, -That, let her lay -On me all day, -I'll kiss the hand that strikes me. - -I will not, I, -Now blubb'ring cry, -It, ah! too late repents me -That I did fall -To love at all-- -Since love so much contents me. - -No, no, I'll be -In fetters free; -While others they sit wringing -Their hands for pain, -I'll entertain -The wounds of love with singing. - -With flowers and wine, -And cakes divine, -To strike me I will tempt thee; -Which done, no more -I'll come before -Thee and thine altars empty. - - -*214* - -UPON LOVE: -BY WAY OF QUESTION AND ANSWER - -I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? -ANS. Like, and dislike ye. -I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? -ANS. Stroke ye, to strike ye. -I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? -ANS. Love will be-fool ye. -I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? -ANS. Heat ye, to cool ye. -I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? -ANS. Love, gifts will send ye. -I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? -ANS. Stock ye, to spend ye. -I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? -ANS. Love will fulfil ye. -I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do? -ANS. Kiss ye, to kill ye. - - -*215* - -LOVERS HOW THEY COME AND PART - -A Gyges ring they bear about them still, -To be, and not seen when and where they will; -They tread on clouds, and though they sometimes fall, -They fall like dew, and make no noise at all: -So silently they one to th' other come, -As colours steal into the pear or plum, -And air-like, leave no pression to be seen -Where'er they met, or parting place has been. - - -*216* - -THE KISS: A DIALOGUE - -1 Among thy fancies, tell me this, -What is the thing we call a kiss? -2 I shall resolve ye what it is:-- - -It is a creature born and bred -Between the lips, all cherry-red, -By love and warm desires fed,-- -CHOR. And makes more soft the bridal bed. - -2 It is an active flame, that flies -First to the babies of the eyes, -And charms them there with lullabies,-- -CHOR. And stills the bride, too, when she cries. - -2 Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear, -It frisks and flies, now here, now there: -'Tis now far off, and then 'tis near,-- -CHOR. And here, and there, and every where. - -1 Has it a speaking virtue? 2 Yes. -1 How speaks it, say? 2 Do you but this,-- -Part your join'd lips, then speaks your kiss; -CHOR. And this Love's sweetest language is. - -1 Has it a body? 2 Ay, and wings, -With thousand rare encolourings; -And as it flies, it gently sings-- -CHOR. Love honey yields, but never stings. - - -*217* - -COMFORT TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE - -What needs complaints, -When she a place -Has with the race -Of saints? -In endless mirth, -She thinks not on -What's said or done -In earth: -She sees no tears, -Or any tone -Of thy deep groan -She hears; -Nor does she mind, -Or think on't now, -That ever thou -Wast kind:-- -But changed above, -She likes not there, -As she did here, -Thy love. ---Forbear, therefore, -And lull asleep -Thy woes, and weep -No more. - - -*218* - -ORPHEUS - -Orpheus he went, as poets tell, -To fetch Eurydice from hell; -And had her, but it was upon -This short, but strict condition; -Backward he should not look, while he -Led her through hell's obscurity. -But ah! it happen'd, as he made -His passage through that dreadful shade, -Revolve he did his loving eye, -For gentle fear or jealousy; -And looking back, that look did sever -Him and Eurydice for ever. - - -*219* - -A REQUEST TO THE GRACES - -Ponder my words, if so that any be -Known guilty here of incivility; -Let what is graceless, discomposed, and rude, -With sweetness, smoothness, softness be endued: -Teach it to blush, to curtsey, lisp, and show -Demure, but yet full of temptation, too. -Numbers ne'er tickle, or but lightly please, -Unless they have some wanton carriages:-- -This if ye do, each piece will here be good -And graceful made by your neat sisterhood. - - -*220* - -A HYMN TO VENUS AND CUPID - -Sea-born goddess, let me be -By thy son thus graced, and thee, -That whene'er I woo, I find -Virgins coy, but not unkind. -Let me, when I kiss a maid, -Taste her lips, so overlaid -With love's sirop, that I may -In your temple, when I pray, -Kiss the altar, and confess -There's in love no bitterness. - - -*221* - -TO BACCHUS: A CANTICLE - -Whither dost thou hurry me, -Bacchus, being full of thee? -This way, that way, that way, this,-- -Here and there a fresh Love is; -That doth like me, this doth please; ---Thus a thousand mistresses -I have now: yet I alone, -Having all, enjoy not one! - - -*222* - -A HYMN TO BACCHUS - -Bacchus, let me drink no more! -Wild are seas that want a shore! -When our drinking has no stint, -There is no one pleasure in't. -I have drank up for to please -Thee, that great cup, Hercules. -Urge no more; and there shall be -Daffadils giv'n up to thee. - - -*223* - -A CANTICLE TO APOLLO - -Play, Phoebus, on thy lute, -And we will sit all mute; -By listening to thy lyre, -That sets all ears on fire. - -Hark, hark! the God does play! -And as he leads the way -Through heaven, the very spheres, -As men, turn all to ears! - - -*224* - -TO MUSIC, TO BECALM A SWEET SICK YOUTH - -Charms, that call down the moon from out her sphere, -On this sick youth work your enchantments here! -Bind up his senses with your numbers, so -As to entrance his pain, or cure his woe. -Fall gently, gently, and a-while him keep -Lost in the civil wilderness of sleep: -That done, then let him, dispossess'd of pain, -Like to a slumbering bride, awake again. - - -*225* - -TO MUSIC: A SONG - -Music, thou queen of heaven, care-charming spell, -That strik'st a stillness into hell; -Thou that tam'st tigers, and fierce storms, that rise, -With thy soul-melting lullabies; -Fall down, down, down, from those thy chiming spheres -To charm our souls, as thou enchant'st our ears. - - -*226* - -SOFT MUSIC - -The mellow touch of music most doth wound -The soul, when it doth rather sigh, than sound. - - -*227* - -TO MUSIC - -Begin to charm, and as thou strok'st mine ears -With thine enchantment, melt me into tears. -Then let thy active hand scud o'er thy lyre, -And make my spirits frantic with the fire; -That done, sink down into a silvery strain, -And make me smooth as balm and oil again. - - -*228* - -THE VOICE AND VIOL - -Rare is the voice itself: but when we sing -To th' lute or viol, then 'tis ravishing. - - -*229* - -TO MUSIC, TO BECALM HIS FEVER - -Charm me asleep, and melt me so -With thy delicious numbers; -That being ravish'd, hence I go -Away in easy slumbers. -Ease my sick head, -And make my bed, -Thou Power that canst sever -From me this ill;-- -And quickly still, -Though thou not kill -My fever. - -Thou sweetly canst convert the same -From a consuming fire, -Into a gentle-licking flame, -And make it thus expire. -Then make me weep -My pains asleep, -And give me such reposes, -That I, poor I, -May think, thereby, -I live and die -'Mongst roses. - -Fall on me like a silent dew, -Or like those maiden showers, -Which, by the peep of day, do strew -A baptism o'er the flowers. -Melt, melt my pains -With thy soft strains; -That having ease me given, -With full delight, -I leave this light, -And take my flight -For Heaven. - - -** MUSAE GRAVIORES ** - - -*230* - -A THANKSGIVING TO GOD, FOR HIS HOUSE - -Lord, thou hast given me a cell, -Wherein to dwell; -A little house, whose humble roof -Is weather proof; -Under the spars of which I lie -Both soft and dry; -Where thou, my chamber for to ward, -Hast set a guard -Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep -Me, while I sleep. -Low is my porch, as is my fate; -Both void of state; -And yet the threshold of my door -Is worn by th' poor, -Who thither come, and freely get -Good words, or meat. -Like as my parlour, so my hall -And kitchen's small; -A little buttery, and therein -A little bin, -Which keeps my little loaf of bread -Unchipt, unflead; -Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar -Make me a fire, -Close by whose living coal I sit, -And glow like it. -Lord, I confess too, when I dine, -The pulse is thine, -And all those other bits that be -There placed by thee; -The worts, the purslain, and the mess -Of water-cress, -Which of thy kindness thou hast sent; -And my content -Makes those, and my beloved beet, -To be more sweet. -'Tis thou that crown'st my glittering hearth -With guiltless mirth, -And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink, -Spiced to the brink. -Lord, 'tis thy plenty-dropping hand -That soils my land, -And giv'st me, for my bushel sown, -Twice ten for one; -Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay -Her egg each day; -Besides, my healthful ewes to bear -Me twins each year; -The while the conduits of my kine -Run cream, for wine: -All these, and better, thou dost send -Me, to this end,-- -That I should render, for my part, -A thankful heart; -Which, fired with incense, I resign, -As wholly thine; ---But the acceptance, that must be, -My Christ, by Thee. - - -*231* - -MATINS, OR MORNING PRAYER - -When with the virgin morning thou dost rise, -Crossing thyself come thus to sacrifice; -First wash thy heart in innocence; then bring -Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing. -Next to the altar humbly kneel, and thence -Give up thy soul in clouds of frankincense. -Thy golden censers fill'd with odours sweet -Shall make thy actions with their ends to meet. - - -*232* - -GOOD PRECEPTS, OR COUNSEL - -In all thy need, be thou possest -Still with a well prepared breast; -Nor let the shackles make thee sad; -Thou canst but have what others had. -And this for comfort thou must know, -Times that are ill won't still be so: -Clouds will not ever pour down rain; -A sullen day will clear again. -First, peals of thunder we must hear; -When lutes and harps shall stroke the ear. - - -*233* - -PRAY AND PROSPER - -First offer incense; then, thy field and meads -Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads. -The spangling dew dredged o'er the grass shall be -Turn'd all to mell and manna there for thee. -Butter of amber, cream, and wine, and oil, -Shall run as rivers all throughout thy soil. -Would'st thou to sincere silver turn thy mould? ---Pray once, twice pray; and turn thy ground to gold. - - -*234* - -THE BELL-MAN - -Along the dark and silent night, -With my lantern and my light -And the tinkling of my bell, -Thus I walk, and this I tell: ---Death and dreadfulness call on -To the general session; -To whose dismal bar, we there -All accounts must come to clear: -Scores of sins we've made here many; -Wiped out few, God knows, if any. -Rise, ye debtors, then, and fall -To make payment, while I call: -Ponder this, when I am gone: ---By the clock 'tis almost One. - - -*235* - -UPON TIME - -Time was upon -The wing, to fly away; -And I call'd on -Him but awhile to stay; -But he'd be gone, -For aught that I could say. - -He held out then -A writing, as he went, -And ask'd me, when -False man would be content -To pay again -What God and Nature lent. - -An hour-glass, -In which were sands but few, -As he did pass, -He shew'd,--and told me too -Mine end near was;-- -And so away he flew. - - -*236* - -MEN MIND NO STATE IN SICKNESS - -That flow of gallants which approach -To kiss thy hand from out the coach; -That fleet of lackeys which do run -Before thy swift postilion; -Those strong-hoof'd mules, which we behold -Rein'd in with purple, pearl, and gold, -And shed with silver, prove to be -The drawers of the axle-tree; -Thy wife, thy children, and the state -Of Persian looms and antique plate: ---All these, and more, shall then afford -No joy to thee, their sickly lord. - - -*237* - -LIFE IS THE BODY'S LIGHT - -Life is the body's light; which, once declining, -Those crimson clouds i' th' cheeks and lips leave shining:- -Those counter-changed tabbies in the air, -The sun once set, all of one colour are: -So, when death comes, fresh tinctures lose their place, -And dismal darkness then doth smutch the face. - - -*238* - -TO THE LADY CREWE, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD - -Why, Madam, will ye longer weep, -Whenas your baby's lull'd asleep? -And, pretty child, feels now no more -Those pains it lately felt before. - -All now is silent; groans are fled; -Your child lies still, yet is not dead, -But rather like a flower hid here, -To spring again another year. - - -*239* - -UPON A CHILD THAT DIED - -Here she lies, a pretty bud, -Lately made of flesh and blood; -Who as soon fell fast asleep, -As her little eyes did peep. ---Give her strewings, but not stir -The earth, that lightly covers her. - - -*240* - -UPON A CHILD - -Here a pretty baby lies -Sung asleep with lullabies; -Pray be silent, and not stir -Th' easy earth that covers her. - - -*241* - -AN EPITAPH UPON A CHILD - -Virgins promised when I died, -That they would each primrose-tide -Duly, morn and evening, come, -And with flowers dress my tomb. ---Having promised, pay your debts -Maids, and here strew violets. - - -*242* - -AN EPITAPH UPON A VIRGIN - -Here a solemn fast we keep, -While all beauty lies asleep; -Hush'd be all things, no noise here -But the toning of a tear; -Or a sigh of such as bring -Cowslips for her covering. - - -*243* - -UPON A MAID - -Here she lies, in bed of spice, -Fair as Eve in paradise; -For her beauty, it was such, -Poets could not praise too much. -Virgins come, and in a ring -Her supremest REQUIEM sing; -Then depart, but see ye tread -Lightly, lightly o'er the dead. - - -*244* - -THE DIRGE OF JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER: -SUNG BY THE VIRGINS - -O thou, the wonder of all days! -O paragon, and pearl of praise! -O Virgin-martyr, ever blest -Above the rest -Of all the maiden-train! We come, -And bring fresh strewings to thy tomb. - -Thus, thus, and thus, we compass round -Thy harmless and unhaunted ground; -And as we sing thy dirge, we will -The daffadil, -And other flowers, lay upon -The altar of our love, thy stone. - -Thou wonder of all maids, liest here, -Of daughters all, the dearest dear; -The eye of virgins; nay, the queen -Of this smooth green, -And all sweet meads, from whence we get -The primrose and the violet. - -Too soon, too dear did Jephthah buy, -By thy sad loss, our liberty; -His was the bond and cov'nant, yet -Thou paid'st the debt; -Lamented Maid! he won the day: -But for the conquest thou didst pay. - -Thy father brought with him along -The olive branch and victor's song; -He slew the Ammonites, we know, -But to thy woe; -And in the purchase of our peace, -The cure was worse than the disease. - -For which obedient zeal of thine, -We offer here, before thy shrine, -Our sighs for storax, tears for wine; -And to make fine -And fresh thy hearse-cloth, we will here -Four times bestrew thee every year. - -Receive, for this thy praise, our tears; -Receive this offering of our hairs; -Receive these crystal vials, fill'd -With tears, distill'd -From teeming eyes; to these we bring, -Each maid, her silver filleting, - -To gild thy tomb; besides, these cauls, -These laces, ribbons, and these falls, -These veils, wherewith we use to hide -The bashful bride, -When we conduct her to her groom; -All, all we lay upon thy tomb. - -No more, no more, since thou art dead, -Shall we e'er bring coy brides to bed; -No more, at yearly festivals, -We, cowslip balls, -Or chains of columbines shall make, -For this or that occasion's sake. - -No, no; our maiden pleasures be -Wrapt in the winding-sheet with thee; -'Tis we are dead, though not i' th' grave; -Or if we have -One seed of life left, 'tis to keep -A Lent for thee, to fast and weep. - -Sleep in thy peace, thy bed of spice, -And make this place all paradise; -May sweets grow here, and smoke from hence -Fat frankincense; -Let balm and cassia send their scent -From out thy maiden-monument. - -May no wolf howl, or screech owl stir -A wing about thy sepulchre! -No boisterous winds or storms come hither, -To starve or wither -Thy soft sweet earth; but, like a spring, -Love keep it ever flourishing. - -May all shy maids, at wonted hours, -Come forth to strew thy tomb with flowers; -May virgins, when they come to mourn, -Male-incense burn -Upon thine altar; then return, -And leave thee sleeping in thy urn. - - -*245* - -THE WIDOWS' TEARS; OR, DIRGE OF DORCAS - -Come pity us, all ye who see -Our harps hung on the willow-tree; -Come pity us, ye passers-by, -Who see or hear poor widows' cry; -Come pity us, and bring your ears -And eyes to pity widows' tears. -CHOR. And when you are come hither, -Then we will keep -A fast, and weep -Our eyes out all together, - -For Tabitha; who dead lies here, -Clean wash'd, and laid out for the bier. -O modest matrons, weep and wail! -For now the corn and wine must fail; -The basket and the bin of bread, -Wherewith so many souls were fed, -CHOR. Stand empty here for ever; -And ah! the poor, -At thy worn door, -Shall be relieved never. - -Woe worth the time, woe worth the day, -That reft us of thee, Tabitha! -For we have lost, with thee, the meal, -The bits, the morsels, and the deal -Of gentle paste and yielding dough, -That thou on widows did bestow. -CHOR. All's gone, and death hath taken -Away from us -Our maundy; thus -Thy widows stand forsaken. - -Ah, Dorcas, Dorcas! now adieu -We bid the cruise and pannier too; -Ay, and the flesh, for and the fish, -Doled to us in that lordly dish. -We take our leaves now of the loom -From whence the housewives' cloth did come; -CHOR. The web affords now nothing; -Thou being dead, -The worsted thread -Is cut, that made us clothing. - -Farewell the flax and reaming wool, -With which thy house was plentiful; -Farewell the coats, the garments, and -The sheets, the rugs, made by thy hand; -Farewell thy fire and thy light, -That ne'er went out by day or night:-- -CHOR. No, or thy zeal so speedy, -That found a way, -By peep of day, -To feed and clothe the needy. - -But ah, alas! the almond-bough -And olive-branch is wither'd now; -The wine-press now is ta'en from us, -The saffron and the calamus; -The spice and spikenard hence is gone, -The storax and the cinnamon; -CHOR. The carol of our gladness -Has taken wing; -And our late spring -Of mirth is turn'd to sadness. - -How wise wast thou in all thy ways! -How worthy of respect and praise! -How matron-like didst thou go drest! -How soberly above the rest -Of those that prank it with their plumes, -And jet it with their choice perfumes! -CHOR. Thy vestures were not flowing; -Nor did the street -Accuse thy feet -Of mincing in their going. - -And though thou here liest dead, we see -A deal of beauty yet in thee. -How sweetly shews thy smiling face, -Thy lips with all diffused grace! -Thy hands, though cold, yet spotless, white, -And comely as the chrysolite. -CHOR. Thy belly like a hill is, -Or as a neat -Clean heap of wheat, -All set about with lilies. - -Sleep with thy beauties here, while we -Will shew these garments made by thee; -These were the coats; in these are read -The monuments of Dorcas dead: -These were thy acts, and thou shalt have -These hung as honours o'er thy grave:-- -CHOR. And after us, distressed, -Should fame be dumb, -Thy very tomb -Would cry out, Thou art blessed. - - -*246* - -UPON HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, MISTRESS ELIZABETH -HERRICK - -First, for effusions due unto the dead, -My solemn vows have here accomplished; -Next, how I love thee, that my grief must tell, -Wherein thou liv'st for ever.--Dear, farewell! - - -*247* - -TO HIS KINSWOMAN, MISTRESS SUSANNA HERRICK - -When I consider, dearest, thou dost stay -But here awhile, to languish and decay; -Like to these garden glories, which here be -The flowery-sweet resemblances of thee: -With grief of heart, methinks, I thus do cry, -Would thou hadst ne'er been born, or might'st not die! - - -*248* - -ON HIMSELF - -I'll write no more of love, but now repent -Of all those times that I in it have spent. -I'll write no more of life, but wish 'twas ended, -And that my dust was to the earth commended. - - -*249* - -HIS WISH TO PRIVACY - -Give me a cell -To dwell, -Where no foot hath -A path; -There will I spend, -And end, -My wearied years -In tears. - - -*250* - -TO HIS PATERNAL COUNTRY - -O earth! earth! earth! hear thou my voice, and be -Loving and gentle for to cover me! -Banish'd from thee I live;--ne'er to return, -Unless thou giv'st my small remains an urn. - - -*251* - -COCK-CROW - -Bell-man of night, if I about shall go -For to deny my Master, do thou crow! -Thou stop'st Saint Peter in the midst of sin; -Stay me, by crowing, ere I do begin; -Better it is, premonish'd, for to shun -A sin, than fall to weeping when 'tis done. - - -*252* - -TO HIS CONSCIENCE - -Can I not sin, but thou wilt be -My private protonotary? -Can I not woo thee, to pass by -A short and sweet iniquity? -I'll cast a mist and cloud upon -My delicate transgression, -So utter dark, as that no eye -Shall see the hugg'd impiety. -Gifts blind the wise, and bribes do please -And wind all other witnesses; -And wilt not thou with gold be tied, -To lay thy pen and ink aside, -That in the mirk and tongueless night, -Wanton I may, and thou not write? ---It will not be: And therefore, now, -For times to come, I'll make this vow; -From aberrations to live free: -So I'll not fear the judge, or thee. - - -*253* - -TO HEAVEN - -Open thy gates -To him who weeping waits, -And might come in, -But that held back by sin. -Let mercy be -So kind, to set me free, -And I will straight -Come in, or force the gate. - - -*254* - -AN ODE OF THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR - -In numbers, and but these few, -I sing thy birth, oh JESU! -Thou pretty Baby, born here, -With sup'rabundant scorn here; -Who for thy princely port here, -Hadst for thy place -Of birth, a base -Out-stable for thy court here. - -Instead of neat enclosures -Of interwoven osiers; -Instead of fragrant posies -Of daffadils and roses, -Thy cradle, kingly stranger, -As gospel tells, -Was nothing else, -But, here, a homely manger. - -But we with silks, not cruels, -With sundry precious jewels, -And lily-work will dress thee; -And as we dispossess thee -Of clouts, we'll make a chamber, -Sweet babe, for thee, -Of ivory, -And plaster'd round with amber. - -The Jews, they did disdain thee; -But we will entertain thee -With glories to await here, -Upon thy princely state here, -And more for love than pity: -From year to year -We'll make thee, here, -A free-born of our city. - - -*255* - -TO HIS SAVIOUR, A CHILD; -A PRESENT, BY A CHILD - -Go, pretty child, and bear this flower -Unto thy little Saviour; -And tell him, by that bud now blown, -He is the Rose of Sharon known. -When thou hast said so, stick it there -Upon his bib or stomacher; -And tell him, for good handsel too, -That thou hast brought a whistle new, -Made of a clean straight oaten reed, -To charm his cries at time of need; -Tell him, for coral, thou hast none, -But if thou hadst, he should have one; -But poor thou art, and known to be -Even as moneyless as he. -Lastly, if thou canst win a kiss -From those melifluous lips of his;-- -Then never take a second on, -To spoil the first impression. - - -*256* - -GRACE FOR A CHILD - -Here, a little child, I stand, -Heaving up my either hand: -Cold as paddocks though they be, -Here I lift them up to thee, -For a benison to fall -On our meat, and on us all. -Amen. - - -*257* - -HIS LITANY, TO THE HOLY SPIRIT - -In the hour of my distress, -When temptations me oppress, -And when I my sins confess, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When I lie within my bed, -Sick in heart, and sick in head, -And with doubts discomforted, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When the house doth sigh and weep, -And the world is drown'd in sleep, -Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When the artless doctor sees -No one hope, but of his fees, -And his skill runs on the lees, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When his potion and his pill, -Has, or none, or little skill, -Meet for nothing but to kill, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When the passing-bell doth toll, -And the furies in a shoal -Come to fright a parting soul, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When the tapers now burn blue, -And the comforters are few, -And that number more than true, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When the priest his last hath pray'd, -And I nod to what is said, -'Cause my speech is now decay'd, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When, God knows, I'm tost about -Either with despair, or doubt; -Yet, before the glass be out, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When the tempter me pursu'th -With the sins of all my youth, -And half damns me with untruth, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When the flames and hellish cries -Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes, -And all terrors me surprise, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - -When the Judgment is reveal'd, -And that open'd which was seal'd; -When to Thee I have appeal'd, -Sweet Spirit, comfort me! - - -*258* - -TO DEATH - -Thou bidst me come away, -And I'll no longer stay, -Than for to shed some tears -For faults of former years; -And to repent some crimes -Done in the present times; -And next, to take a bit -Of bread, and wine with it; -To don my robes of love, -Fit for the place above; -To gird my loins about -With charity throughout; -And so to travel hence -With feet of innocence; -These done, I'll only cry, -'God, mercy!' and so die. - - -*259* - -TO HIS SWEET SAVIOUR - -Night hath no wings to him that cannot sleep; -And Time seems then not for to fly, but creep; -Slowly her chariot drives, as if that she -Had broke her wheel, or crack'd her axletree. -Just so it is with me, who list'ning, pray -The winds to blow the tedious night away, -That I might see the cheerful peeping day. -Sick is my heart; O Saviour! do Thou please -To make my bed soft in my sicknesses; -Lighten my candle, so that I beneath -Sleep not for ever in the vaults of death; -Let me thy voice betimes i' th' morning hear; -Call, and I'll come; say Thou the when and where: -Draw me but first, and after Thee I'll run, -And make no one stop till my race be done. - - -*260* - -ETERNITY - -O years! and age! farewell: -Behold I go, -Where I do know -Infinity to dwell. - -And these mine eyes shall see -All times, how they -Are lost i' th' sea -Of vast eternity:-- - -Where never moon shall sway -The stars; but she, -And night, shall be -Drown'd in one endless day. - - -*261* - -THE WHITE ISLAND: -OR PLACE OF THE BLEST - -In this world, the Isle of Dreams, -While we sit by sorrow's streams, -Tears and terrors are our themes, -Reciting: - -But when once from hence we fly, -More and more approaching nigh -Unto young eternity, -Uniting - -In that whiter Island, where -Things are evermore sincere: -Candour here, and lustre there, -Delighting:-- - -There no monstrous fancies shall -Out of hell an horror call, -To create, or cause at all -Affrighting. - -There, in calm and cooling sleep, -We our eyes shall never steep, -But eternal watch shall keep, -Attending - -Pleasures such as shall pursue -Me immortalized, and you; -And fresh joys, as never too -Have ending. - - - - - - -End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Lyrical Poems Of Robert Herrick - diff --git a/old/old/lporh10.zip b/old/old/lporh10.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ec80228..0000000 --- a/old/old/lporh10.zip +++ /dev/null |